Heartfelt advice
by hannew
Summary: ON HIATUS UNTIL PROBABLY FOREVER. The noble dwarf maiden Hertha had come to Erebor to be with her brother, following the Battle of the five armies. When meeting the king under the mountain, an unlikely mutual relationship flourishes. Slow builing, in an AU where everybody lives and dwarf maidens do not have beards. Co-written with my genius friend Sofie.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

Though it had been three weeks since Hertha had arrived in Erebor, she had yet to see any of it. Due to a high fever she had been bedridden for nearly a month, and had seen nothing of the kingdom but her sheets and the roof of the sickbay.

The silence was perhaps the only thing that made being ill almost bearable. Hertha was one of those rare dwarven maids who enjoyed sitting still, and could be alone for hours on end with nothing but her books, her sketches and her thoughts. Since the healer had declared her fit and ready for battle two days ago, she had been wandering about the mountain, trying to find a quiet place. The first day she had, after searching for almost three hours, been made aware of the fact that this mountain did not have a public library. Which prompted her to return home. She spent another two hours locating this new home.

Hertha found herself yet again wanting to explore this wondrous place. At break of dawn, though there was no clear dawn at this time of year, she gathered her things, her paper and the little box of coals in a basket along with some food and set about to find a motive. It had now been hours since she had a faint idea of where she was. After endless locked doors or signs that prohibited one from going further, and after ascending more stairs then she had ever believed she could muster, Hertha suddenly found herself on a balcony far up the mountain side. As she walked in she noticed that the room itself was square, quite large with no furniture of any kind. She put down her basket at the wall closest to the door and turned to look at the balcony. The balcony itself had, like most of dwarven architecture, a geometric shape. If one looked at it from above, it reminded one of a square where the edges had been cut of. The entrance to the balcony portrayed a simpler version of the great halls far below. The railing of the balcony reminded her of stone arches plummeting through each other forming a unified whole.

Hertha drenched her lungs in the fresh air seeping in as she looked at what seemed to be all of Middle earth. She closed her eyes for a moment, appreciating the peace and quiet that one found on this remote balcony. She looked at the mountain below her, she almost expected the it to never stop, but far beneath her, she could see the bridge and the road that lead to Dale. Her gaze trailed the road to the city of man, it seemed so small from here, and Lake Town seemed even smaller, and far more broken. It had only been a two months since the serpent fell, and one could still clearly see the mark it had left. Hertha wondered if the town on the lake ever would be rebuilt. She truly hoped so, it's strategic location was of great value. Far greater than that of the city of Dale, which only truly existed because it was by far much easier to travel from Dale to Erebor than from Lake Town. No, Lake Town had an important position, both in trade and in war. Hertha wished that her king also knew that.

A few of Herthas wild curls were caught by the wind, obscuring her view. She lifted her hand and put it behind her ear again, silently cursing herself for not putting her hair in a braid this morning. Not that she had put too much thought into her looks, though she was a noble, she had no wish to always behave like one. Not in the sense that she seeked out trouble or spoke rudely to others. No, Hertha just had no wish to always have to look the part. Especially not when all she wanted was to be in her own company. She returned to her basket near the wall. Opening the box of coals, she selected one at random. She did not waste time, as she grabbed her papers and walked the distance from the wall to the balcony. Gazing over the landscape again, this time with a critical eye, she began sketching.

Many hours later, the light had shifted to that of a midday sun. Hertha had not noticed. If she was to be know for two things it were that she had no sense of direction, and absolutely no sense of time passing when enjoying herself. She now sat on the ground, several paces away from the balcony with her back against the wall. The piece of paper in front of her showed the opening in the stone, and how the light shone through, giving the space at the top of the mountain a special atmosphere. As Hertha was putting the finishing touches to her art, she heard heavy foot steps approaching. She turned to look at the door to her right, expecting to see a silhouette. But even though the steps seemed to be getting closer, no one entered through the door. Hertha stared confused at the door, not fully understanding what was happening. It was only when she shook her head and looked towards the balcony again that she must have been a second door leading to the balcony. Suddenly a dwarf had appeared. He stood right in the middle of the balcony, gazing over the same view that Hertha had admired for the first time only hours before.

The dwarf was unusually tall, his black and grey hair slightly blowing in the wind. He was leaning on the balcony, showing the royal blue tunic underneath the coat that rested on his broad shoulders. The coat, with it's large fur collar, only gave the impression of broadening the dwarf. Hertha suspected he was a noble dwarf, and by his stance she saw something else. She saw a warrior, one that has seen many sorrows and battles, but also the greatest victory of them all. A dwarfs return to Erebor.

Though it would have been proper of Hertha to introduce herself, she decided against it. This dwarf had most likely yearned for the same thing as her when coming here. She gazed at him for another second before she started to make him a part of her art.

Thorin had had a rough day. Truly the events that had held him since he had risen from bed were starting to take it's toll on the normally so hardened dwarf. At the first sign of peace from the ever so demanding nobles, Thorin had left to seek refuge in the one place that had soothed his minds since his childhood. His quest took him far from the Hall of Kings, and as the voices had begun to fade away, Thorin found himself gazing upon a familiar sight. His heavy shoulders already seeming lighter. The small room was in complete darkness, apart from the light seeping in from the balcony leading out, out of the mountain. Now viewing his kingdom from above, he felt the bitter aftertaste letting go. He knew what he did was out of necessity, there was simply no other way, it had to be done. There was a kingdom to rule. A short while passed before his ears registered the muffed scratching sound coming from somewhere in the room. At first he had thought nothing of it, his thoughts too far away to realise. Though when he finally did, he slowly straightened his back, readying his every muscle to tackle any opposing danger.

Thorin knew not what he had expected, but surely the sight that met him was as far from his mind as anything. Only a few paces behind where he stood sat a dwarf maiden on the ground, sketching. Her hair, dark brown in colour, had fallen in front of her face, the frizzy curls forming a crown obscuring her facial features. Her curls, which seemed not to know where to lay, stood out in all directions. Thorin approached her, curious as to whom she was, and most of all what she was doing here.

Hearing the footsteps, Hertha looked up. She was a little disappointed that he had discovered her so soon, her drawing had just the finishing touches left. She placed her drawings on the floor beside her and rose. Not caring for her coal-covered fingers she performed her best curtsy. The dwarf was definetly of noble birth. She straightened herself, looking at the dwarf in front of her with warm eyes. "Hertha, daughter of Halvar, at your service." she smiled. "What can I do for you Master dwarf?

Thorin looked at her, her forrest green dress made her eyes shine even brighter. Compared to other dwarfs she seemed awfully thin, so delicate that he was sure she would shatter into a thousand pieces if hugged too tightly. The maiden made no sign of impatience while waiting for him to answer. Thorin did not believe he needed to introduce himself, after all, he was king. Instead he asked her, impatiently, what she was doing here. " I am drawing, Master dwarf. The view from here is most exquisite, and it is such a quiet place that I can do nothing but adore it." She replied calmly. Thorin grew impatient, this was not the answer he wanted.

"No, I mean, how did you get here?". Thorin barked, he had no time for this, he wished to be alone. The maiden, who seemed not at all affected by his behavior, chuckled. Thorin felt the rage run through him, this day had not been kind to him and being laughed at did nothing to improve the situation. His hands formed tight fists. "Oh, Master dwarf, I did not intend to offend you! I only reminded myself of my long route here." Hertha rushed. "You see, I most probably have the worst sense of direction in all of Middle earth, and I do not know for how long or where I walked to arrive here. So I simply cannot give you a good answer to your questions." Thorin stared at her. But before he could give her an answer, she continued. "Am I not allowed to be here? I..." "-No!" The king cut her off mid sentence. "Leave me! Now!" He exclaimed briskly.

Hertha stared in disbelief at the dwarf. Giving him a short curtsy, she picked up her basket and left through the doorway from whence she came without another word. The king stood still for a long time, slowly realizing the consequences of his short temper. He cursed himself in Khuzdul, he had no right to lash out at his subjects in such a manner. She was not to blame, it was not right of him to project his rage upon her. He sighed,and his gaze fell to the floor. There he noticed sheets of paper, laying abandoned on the floor. The dwarf maiden must have forgotten them in her haste to leave. He crouched down to pick them up. Looking through them he realized that she must have been on the balcony all day, and he had been the one to interrupt her. One of the papers showed the view of middle earth from the balcony, he recognized the horde tradesmen that had arrived in Erebor during the early hours of the morning on the road from Dale. The next paper startled him, it was a detailed drawing of the balcony. Overlapping the balcony in certain places, a rushed hand had drawn a silhouette looking out. His silhouette.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It had not taken long for Hertha to lose her way after leaving the balcony. Not that it bothered her, she was not particularly hungry, and the architecture of the mountain kept her entertained. She did not know how long she had stood there, in the middle of a grand corridor, with her head all the way back gazing at the ceiling. She was studying the intricate design that somebody had taken the time to carve into it, when somebody call out her name. She barely noticed it, it was only the movement in the corner of her left eye that made her look away. There stood an old dwarf with a white mane and a long forked beard. Hertha smiled broadly.

"Lord Balin! How nice to see you again!"

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Hertha" the old dwarf replied. He glanced up at the ceiling.

"Are you enjoying our dwarven architecture so much that you have lost your way yet again? "

"Oh, one could say that! I had found a lovely balcony far up the mountain side, but a dwarf who seemed to need the isolation more than I asked me to leave. I somehow ended up here." Hertha looked around. "Where exactly is … here?"

Balin chuckled. He had meet her the day before while she appeared to be wandering around with a confused glaze over her eyes. He had soon understood that beside her lack of direction she was a wise lady, with whom he had had a long conversation with concerning the rebuild of Erebor.

"Would you like me to escort you back to your home? I truly enjoyed your company the prior day."

"I would love that, both the escort and the company." Her smile broadened. The old dwarf offered his arm, which she gratefully accepted.

As they descended a long flight of stairs, the old dwarf asked of her day. Hertha proceeded to tell him about the balcony, the view and how she hoped that the rebuild of Lake Town was hasted as much as the rebuild of Erebor.

"... Erebor is still vulnerable, and if there was ever a time for others to take it away from the line of Durin, it is now." She finished.

The pair stopped in front of a doorway. "Aye, lass. Lake Town is of great importance. " Balin agreed. Hertha looked around, realising that they had stopped in front of her home.

"Thank you so much for escorting me home Lord Balin."

"No troubles Lady Hertha, I was heading this way already." The old dwarf smiled.

"Oh, and before I forget." Balin grabbed under his coat and pulled out a leatherbound book.

" I smuggled this from the kings study. It tells the story of Erebor and the line of Durin. I thought you would appreciate it." The old dwarf said as he handed it to her.

Thorin found himself looking at the sketchings more often than he cared to admit. It had now been two weeks since the rather unpleasant, and embarrassing, encounter on the balcony. He had returned there every day since, hoping to meet the dwarven maid yet again, to properly apologize. But he had had no luck. Because of his anger he had not listened well enough when she had introduces herself, leaving him unable to find her in the registry.

Today he arrived on the balcony later than usual, he had been held back by a meeting regarding the rebuilding of Erebor. When arriving in the dark doorway he stopped abruptly. There, leaning on the railing, gazing out on the lands below, stood a dwarrodam. Her wild curls were tamed into a braid, her dress blue like the flags of Erebor. Suddenly Thorin wished to turn around and hide. He had never turned away from a fight, but the embarrassing memory made him question if this was not a fight to turn away from. Not that he did. He knew they would meet at one point or another, he was king, and he doubted that she would leave Erebor because of an embarrassing encounter. Taking a deep breath the king stepped out of the shadows and towards the dwarrowdam. She did not notice him at first, but when she did, she curtsied. When her head came up from the gesture, Thorin saw that, much to his surprise, she was smiling at him.

"Good day, Master Dwarf. I hope that you are feeling better?"

Thorin, taken back by her unusual behaviour towards him, just stood there. He had wronged her, and yet she stood there smiling at him, a smile he could only describe as genuine.

".. Yes, very much so, my Lady." He hastily replied when he realized he had just stood there for a minute.

"But I wish to apologize to you. I had had a bad day, but it was not in my place to behave so poorly towards you, you had done nothing wrong."

"All is forgotten, you need not apologize." The dwarf smiled. She shifted a leatherbound book from one arm to the other. Thorin recognised it instantly, he had spent his youth reading it.

Trying to disguise his irritation, he asked her how she came upon the book.

" Lord Balin, one of the kings advisors, lent it to me. But you mustn't tell anyone, least of all the king. I do not wish for Lord Balin to be in trouble because of me. "

Thorin simply stood there. It did no surprise him that Balin had done so, what had taken him by surprise was her choice of words.

" You have not met the king, my Lady?" He stated, more than asked.

Hertha shook her head. " I fell ill upon arriving, and there has simply not been a time that was right since. "

Thorin stared in disbelief. For the first time in weeks, he was unrecognized. For the first time in weeks the dwarf who stood in front of him was unfamiliar with the fact that his face was the face of the king. Thorin felt his lips curl upwards. Here he had found someone who seemed to have nothing to gain from being _his _ friend, but to simply be his _friend. _But just as the overwhelming sense of relief came bursting over him, a suspicion found its way to his thoughts; perhaps her lack of knowledge was rehearsed, perhaps she knew very well who he was and was playing an intricate game with him.

Torn from his thoughts and suspicions by the sudden realization that she had asked him a question, Thorin looked up and muttered an apology.

" I asked for your name, Master Dwarf." Hertha smiled.

Thorin had an internal battle. Should he tell her who he was? If he did not do so now, she would definitely find out at a later time, and be angry with him. But if he did tell her, she would most definitely behave differently towards him.

"Thorin…" He answered evasively.

"Well, Lord Thorin, it is a pleasure to meet you properly. Hertha, at your service.", replied the lady, who seemed to have a heart far too large for her fragile figure. And curtsied.

"No, Lady Hertha, it is my pleasure." Thorin bowed, and he truly meant it.

Thorin joined her at the balcony, and they both stood there for what seemed like eons gazing out at the land below, not saying a word. The silence that arose, was not awkward, it was a pleasant, warm silence.

"Are you finding Erebor to your liking?" The king finally asked.

"Yes, very much so. But I wish that I had a map of this mountain, so that I would not get so lost. You know, I've been trying to find this balcony again since we last spoke, but I have had no luck till now."

Thorin shifted his gaze from his land below to the maiden to his right.

"If it would help, I could draw up a map for you, Lady Hertha." "Could you! Oh, that would be lovely!"

She spun around, hastily retrieving her basket from the back wall. Meanwhile, Thorin seated himself on the ground, watching her with amusement. Her air was completely different to those dwarfs he usually spent his time with.

-_That is because most of them are warriors and do not bathe regularly, idiot. _

It was more than that, he found himself relaxing more for every minute that passed in her company.

Hertha looked up and was surprised to find the king on the ground. Of course it was the king, it had to be. How many nobles named Thorin lived under this mountain? Most likely only one, and he ruled it. But as he seemingly did not want to introduce himself as king, she did not address him as it. She made a mental note to ask Lord Balin about this.

She seated herself beside him, taking paper, a quill and an inkpot from the basket. At first, Hertha watched as Thorin began to draw an intricate map, but when he was done with the first of the great halls, she picked up the leatherbound book and began to read. The pleasant silence arose yet again, the only thing one could hear was their synchronized breaths, the turning of pages and the quills scratching on paper.

As the hours passed, the balcony fell into the shadows. Hertha noticed the cold first when she was properly cold. She shivered, drawing her knees up to her chin and hugging her arms around them. A while had passed since the book was finished, and she was now gazing at the dwarf next to her who had fallen into a slumber. She smiled to herself upon realizing that she was probably not the only one enjoying the silent company. Hertha grabbed one of the maps. It showed how Hertha could get from her home to the balcony. The more she studied it, the more her smile broadened. It had small notes around the edges, telling her that "This way is not yet safe" or "This way to the Hall of Kings".

She looked at Thorin again. His eyes now awake and fixed on her. Hertha hesitated for a moment, before putting the map down, and extending her hand to him. He accepted and she squeezed his tightly.

"Thank you, Thorin. So much."

The dwarf bowed his head, and with a smile squeezed her hand in return.

"It is my pleasure."

Hertha suddenly became aware of the situation. Here she sat, actually she had been sitting for hours, on a remote balcony, with a dwarf she had only just met. Who was squeezing her hand. It was not proper. Not proper at all. She reluctantly retracted her hand. As much as she loved the feeling she got in his company, to be able to fully relax and show her full and true character, it was not proper. She cleared her throat to excuse herself, as the king spoke again.

"Perhaps we should be getting back. It is quite late, and if I am not mistaken, supper will be served soon."

She nodded. "Yes, you are right."

They tidied up in silence. It was not the same silence at before. It lay heavy, as if there was something to be said, but no words to be found.

Hertha cleared her throat again.

"Though it may not be proper of two dwarves of the opposite sex to spend time alone in such a remote location I very much enjoyed your company and I have found a friend in you and I would be very happy if we could meet up here from time to time..." It was not till she finished that she had realized she had not taken a single breath while speaking. Embarrassed by speaking so truthfully to someone who was practically a stranger, she looked at her feet.

After a prolonged silence she realized he had not yet spoken, and she raised her head and found his eyes crinkled with half a dozen crows feet reaching out to touch his temples and his lips curling upwards to form a broad grin.

"Nothing would bring me more pleasure than to be able to enjoy your company again."

**Authors' note:**

This fanfic basically happened because I (Hanne) asked what would happen if Thorin met a dwarf who was not loud, whom trouble did not follow and who had a calm nature_(because Thorin usually meets dwarrowdams who speak their mind, get into trouble and have a short temper)_.So this is us(_both writers and readers)_ finding it out. It is our first fanfiction, so we really appreciate your thoughts on it! Also, thank you so much to those of you who have followed, favorited and reviewed so far. It makes it so much more fun to write!

Happy belated Valentine, Sofie and Hanne


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Following Herthas bold statement and Thorins reply, he accompanied her down to the Hall of Kings. Upon reaching one of the entrances, Hertha grabbed Thorins arm.

"Though I would love to spent more time with you, I believe it is wise to part ways now. My brother can be a bit intimidating at first. Shall we reconvene tomorrow at midday?"

"I would be delighted. See you tomorrow. " Thorin lead her hand to his mouth, and gently caressed her knuckles with his lips. Hertha lowered her gaze to conceal the faint red that now coloured her cheeks, before their eyes briefly locked. With a soft smile on her lips she curtsied, before excusing herself.

Thorin watched with amusement as Hertha tried to reach a dwarf he presumed was her brother as fast as possible, while not seeming unlady like and getting the attention of the nobles that were gathered in the hall. By the manner in which she spoke he had quickly deduced that she had to be of noble birth, but he would have to ask Dain for more information on the matter. He smiled as she flung herself into her brothers arms, who by then had spotted her. He was a dwarf of large stature, the exact opposite of his sister in both height and size. Where one might be afraid of squeezing her to tightly, one would certainly be afraid of being squeezed too tightly by him. His hair had a shade that accurately matched that of his sister's, but seemed to lack the wild curls that would have made their manes the same. His beard reached his chest, where three thick braids melted into one that ceased two hands further down. Thorin watched as the brother scribbled something on one of Herthas papers, before she left the grand room. He had to force down a laugh, as he saw the big dwarf run after her to turn her in the right direction. Was it really possible to have such poor sense of direction?

Thorin felt a slight tingle in the pit of his stomach when he realized that he would be spending the following day with this remarkable creature. As the smile reached his eyes he thought of hers. In her company he felt at ease. He hardly knew her, but he knew already now that he would not be able to let her go. He had never met somebody like her and although she was of noble birth she did not wear her status on her sleeve like an armour, readying to fend off anyone of lesser birth.

By the time Thorin had turned his attention back to the great hall, the large dwarf was engaged in a deep conversation with Dwalin. It was only then that the King under the mountain realized just how large this dwarf truly was. His frame easily bested that of Erebors captain. It did not occur often that neither Dwalin nor Thorin had to tilt their heads backwards to be able to lock eyes with another dwarf. Thorin thought to himself, that if Beorn ever had a child with a dwarf, this would be the offspring.

* * *

Balin had commented on the ease with which Thorin had met the nobles that morning, but to Thorin himself this newfound fondness of all that was, was no mystery. Before midday he found himself trotting with swift paces up the many stairs leading to what had now become his sanctuary. His heart plummeted in his chest with the sight of the empty room that met him. She was not there.

He came to the realization that her actions the previous day might have been nothing more than good manners, and that she had no interest in him. As he cursed himself for having so easily being deceived by this woman, the corner of his eye detected a movement. A flimmer of hope sprung forth as a pale green dress came into view.

He cleared his throat to gain the attention of his company. He watched as the dwarven maid turned to face him. With a well rehearsed curtsy she greeted him. Thorin bowed in return.

"How has your day been thus far, Master dwarf?" She questioned with a smile.

"My duties and engagements were made that much easier with the knowledge of how I would be spending my afternoon." He replied.

For the second time since they had properly met, his words had given colour to her cheeks.

"And how did yours fare, Mylady?"

"My day had thus far consisted of catching up to old friends far away. I sent a raven to the Iron Hills with well-wished greetings to loved ones I left behind."

Once again Thorins heart stooped at the morbid thought that entered his mind. It had not yet occurred to him that she may have been promised away to someone other than him.

"Do you perhaps have a husband waiting for you back in the Iron Hills?"

Hertha chuckled. "I do not, master dwarf. It is simply an old friend who requested some advice." She gestured him to join her as she turned towards the balcony again. He joined her, subduing the urge to place his hand on her lower back.

"So… Lord Thorin, tell me something of yourself…. What is your favorite colour?"

Thorin stared at her, taken aback by her odd question.

"Well, my favorite colour is green. But that might have something to do with the colour of my eyes, as I have always been complimented on how anything green makes my eyes stand out. Also Haldor, my brother, does not seem to get that there are other colours than green, so he only gives me dresses in different nuances of it. But other than green I also really like blue, it reminds me of the sky. I can just gaze at it for hours on end, lost in thought. But really, I am quite easily lost in thought. Only on my way here I do not know how long I stood admiring the decoration that the dwarves of old took their time to carve into this mountain…. I … I am terribly sorry Thorin… I did not… I bable -"

Thorin smiled at this adorable dwarf. "My favorite colour is blue. It portrays trust, wisdom, loyalty and power. I believe that blue makes one seem stronger, more trustworthy. It is also the colour I remember my father wearing in my youth, so I always feel as if a piece of him is with me when I wear it… I feel safer. It seems childish, that a colour can make me feel safer, but it does." His smiled saddened at the thought of his father.

Hertha smiled sympathetically at the dwarf. "It not childish. We seek refuge in the arms of our parents, and to seek refuge in something as small as a colour when they are not around to comfort… It is not childish, it is natural." She patted his hand, smiling at him with big green eyes.

"My mother always told me stories. And whenever I come across a story she told me, I cannot help but shed a tear. They embody her, the way she told them, the morals they have. The stories make her come to life once again. Thorin, it is not childish. We are forever cursed with missing our loved ones when they are taken from us."

Thorin looked down upon the dwarf maiden. She had a way with words that truly took his breath away. He bowed his head towards her, as a token of his gratitude.

They stood in silence for a while, both lost in thoughts regarding their parents.

"Your father… where is he?" Thorin asked carefully

Hertha smiled sadly. "He died before of the gates of Moria. Some would argue his death is the reason for me being here. His death lead my brother to swear, that if this mountain was ever retaken, he would serve the king as our father had done.." "Till his death." she breathed.

Thorin's words betrayed him, he knew not to convey his sympathy for her. They had both lost so much because of this mountain. So much they could never regain.

But as he looked into her eyes he felt a calm rush over him. His smile matching hers as he almost whispered "Did you come here with your brother, to serve the king I mean?"

"Yes, well, although i will do my best to serve the king, my moving was part for the sake of my brother and part because of a wish to honour my father. He used to love this mountain and mother told us that when it was lost, it was a though a piece of him was lost to us too forever. Upon his death mother fell ill and would later succame to the same illness, a broken heart, leading to her death."

Thorin knew not how to respond to such frankness and honesty, as he was so used to the deceitful ways of the nobles. He turned and faced her and his gaze still burning at the spot where he guessed her eyes to be. She exhaled heavily and turned to face him in the same manner in which he had done just moments before, the top of her head barely surpassing the tip of his nose. They both leaned in closer and before long each had their arms wrapped around the other and she buried her face in his fur coat. Both finding comfort in the closeness of the other.

* * *

Days later Thorin came running up the stairs to the balcony. He was late. His coat slid off his shoulders as he ran. Shrugging it in place again, he ran through the doorway to the balcony. He stopped abruptly, he could not believe his eyes.

Hertha looked up and smiled, " The children of Erebor seem to have taken a liking to me, or perhaps rather to my hair. " She laughed, pointing to the entangled mess of braids and hair upon her head

Thorin tried to subdue a laugh as he approached her.

"Do you need a hand?" he asked, chuckling, gently removing a braid from obscuring her view. She nodded silently, already trying to untangle one of her many newfound braids.

As he took her hair in his hands, the softness of her curls softly dancing around his knuckles he found himself in need of air and drew a sharp breath and gazed upon the wonder that was her.

A sudden quiet fell upon them both as they continued to free the wild strains of hair growing from Herthas head. Only the last braid remained when smiles and elongated looks were exchanged by speech breaching the prolonged silence.

"I forgot to ask, how came you by these braids?"

Hertha laughed and retorted "Although I have now been in Erebor for five weeks, and though my sense of direction has not improved, I can honestly say I do not lose my way as often anymore. Part of this can be attributed to your intricate maps, and part of it to the children of Erebor who seem to have claimed me as their own. I spend my mornings, as most of them are not willing to sleep past sunrise, reading, storytelling and playing games with them. I need not worry about finding my way around the mountain anymore as there are always some short, chubby fingers ready to take hold of my hand and lead me to new strange places or if I need to, in the right direction. I must admit I adore it, and if the children get too wild for my liking, all one had to do is to simply sit back and wait, and they will soon be calm once more"

The small ones, most wider than Hertha, adored her and were always careful not to smother her with their firm, yet somehow gentle hugs. The older ones respected her immensely for her knowledge and stories, they were so enchanted by them that Hertha would have had to tell them stories all day had it not been for the young ones growing restless.

"The children seemed reluctant and perhaps even upset to see me leave for this meeting. Some even threatening to bind me to one of the pillars in the Hall of Kings, to prevent me from leaving." She chuckled, remembering the events of the morning.

" I am afraid that I will soon run out of stories to tell them, you do not have one that I have yet to hear?"

Thorin had not taken his hands of her hair while she spoke, lost in thought of her inner beauty he had absentmindedly wrapped a curl around his index finger. Being brought back to reality be her question he quickly withdrew his hand. Shaking his head apologetically to her, he sheepishly asked her to repeat her question. Hertha sent him a small smile before repeating.

"I believe I have one. I once heard it from an old dwarrow, and it seems not many have heard it." Moving to the balcony they both placed their hands on the railing. He gazed out for a while, trying to remember the details of the story. Hertha looked at him attentively, waiting for the story to commence.

"I must warn you, I am no great story teller. I am far better at listening to them, so please bear with me." Thorin excused himself before he began telling this age old story.

"_This is the story of how Enrir the cunning outwitted a mountain troll. The name of this troll escapes me, or perhaps it was never known. Enrir was on one of his many travels through Middle Earth when fate had dealt him an unfortunate hand. His supply of food and drink had run dry as he spotted a drove of sheep. Before he had time to think of the owner of these sheep, Enrir found himself standing over the bloody corpse of one of them. His weakened state made gutting and preparing the sheep a longer process than normal and by the time Enrir could take his first bite the sun had set and a muffled thumping was approaching his camp. He turned around to see a mountain troll thrice his height lurching over him. _

"_What do you think you are doing?" shouted the troll, "I stole these sheep for myself, fair and square from that leathery old farmer, he had no need for them anymore." The troll chuckled before he continued. "Well if you have such a big appetite for things that are not yours, then lets see if you can beat me in an eating contest"_

_Enrir saw no other way out and agreed to the trolls challenge. _

"_If I win then I will have you for dessert" threatened the troll._

"_And if I win, you will let me keep the food that has already been prepared and we will part out ways, never to see each other again" retorted Enrir. Because he knew that mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and because weeks of hunger had taken its toll on his otherwise impressive stature, Enrir took his bag and mounted it to the front of his frame. The troll said nothing but lead the way to a large pot of stew now boiling under a roaring fire not far from Enrirs own. When he ate he took some of the stew in his mouth and some he dropped into his bag as the troll was not looking. After a prolonged silence the bag was becoming full and Enrir took his knife, cut a hole in his bag and said nothing. They continued to eat until at last the troll exclaimed he could not take another bite. "You will eat", said Enrir. Do as I did, and cut a hole in your stomach, and then you can eat as much as your heart desires. "Will that not hurt terribly?" asked the troll. Not at all, retorted Enrir, the troll hesitated, but did not want to be bested by a creature one fifth his size. So he took his knife and repeated Enrirs movement from before, only to realize his mistake too late. As the troll bled out it lunged forward in a desperate attempt to devour his opponent, but his feet succame to the mass they had to carry and the troll dove face first into the ground. With its last breath the troll cursed Enrir the cunning. _

"And that", said Thorin, "is the story of how Enrir the cunning outwitted a mountain troll".

As the story had progressed the wind had shifted and was not biting through the thin fabric of Herthas dress, causing her to shiver and seek warmth from the large figure beside her. Thorin in turn had put his arm around her, drawing her closer.

Hertha rested her head on his chest. Thorin could not help but smile broadly as he felt hers searing through the few layers of clothing that was separating them.

"It is a lovely story. Thank you, Thorin. I believe the children of Erebor will adore it."

Thorin's grin broadened as he placed his head on hers, lightly nuzzling her hair. He drew her closer still, and together they stood in silence gazing out upon the mighty landscape that opened up before them.

**Authors' note**

Regarding Haldor, think a dwarven version of the Mountain from GOT. Also, half of this chapter was written while we were playing "Pin the mustache" with An unexpected journey. So, we were a tini tiny bit shitfaced, but I think it turned out alright. Please let us know your thoughts on the matter!

Also we based the story Thorin tells on a Norwegian folk tale.

Review replies:

Oud: We think Thorin is so to. :D

Dhalmi93: Thank you, we really do not want her to be a Mary Sue. And frankly, we are quite bored of the loud mouthed dwarfs.

Sofie and Hanne


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Herthas days were filled with small chubby fingers demanding stories upon stories and when the king could spare a moment, long conversations about everything between heaven and earth. She immensely enjoyed the company that both the children and the king provided, but this morning she wished to be alone. It was now a week since Thorin had told her the story of Enrir the cunning. The raven that she had sent to the Iron Hills had finally returned, with a letter from Dain. She was running up the stairs, almost tripping over the hem of her dress, clenching the letter. She had waited long for his reply, wondering what the Lord of the Iron Hills would think of her idea.

When she reached the balcony she quickly checked that it was empty before sitting down where she stood, in the middle of the room. Carefully opening the letter addressed to her, she fished the papers out. A wide smile appeared on her face as she read the reply from the Iron Hills. Dain was coming, and if the letter was correct, it would only be a matter of days. That left her with just enough time to make all the preparations needed. She chuckled at the last line of the letter, Dain demanded that she would dance with him at the ball that would surely be held upon his arrival. Putting the letter back into its envelope, she rose to her feet. Given that she now had to dance, she thought it best to rehearse her steps.

She closed her eyes to better visualise the intricate movements that one was required to know with these dances as thoughts of a tall, broad shouldered, dark haired dwarf entered her mind. She smiled to herself upon thinking of how his way with words time and again made her cheeks flush with a hint of red.

She could feel her heart quicken, her whole body suddenly filled to the brim with a soft, warm feeling.

She did not understand how he could make her feel this way, their banter was nothing different from that of Hertha and her brothers'.

As she contemplated their relationship, she suddenly felt a strong arm settling on her lower back. She flung her eyes open only to have them lock onto the exact ones she had just moment before been reminiscing about.

"May I have this dance, My lady?" His low voice hummed.

Hertha laughed. "Mahal, Thorin you startled me!" She lightly placed her right hand on his shoulder, relinquishing her left hand to his firm grip.

"But I would love a dance, My lord." She smiled. Thorin gave her a nod, before beginning to lead her around the balcony. Their movement was graceful, Hertha easily following the solid lead that Thorin provided.

They seemed to move as one, never taking their eyes of the other. Their steps, hers lighter than his, was the only sound made on this remote balcony. Hertha looked into his eyes, a smile playing on her lips. She was not able to fully decide which color his eyes were. Depending on where on the balcony they were, and the light that hit them they seemed to change between a rich grey to a strong blue. All she did know, was that she very much enjoyed looking into them. They almost made her forget that she had to keep her feet moving.

As their dance on the balcony came to an end, Hertha reluctantly let go of the king to perform a curtsy. He bowed in turn. As he came up from the bow, some of his dark hair fell in front of his face. A quick step. A stretched out hand. Hertha suddenly found herself brushing his hair away. The king looked surprised, but it did not seem to bother him. Retracting her hand swiftly, she felt her face begin to burn. Why had she done that?

She stared at him, unable to move or make a sound. What could she say to make him understand why she did that, when she did not know herself. Chewing her lower lip nervously she looked down at her feet. Suddenly she felt a broad hand move some wild curls that had fallen in front of her left eye, tucking it behind her ear. It lingered on her cheeks, making her gaze up at him once more. His eyes, the light now making them icy blue, rested on her, seemingly taking in every detail of her face.

"So, may I ask why you were dancing a pair-dance by yourself?" Thorin asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Hertha stuttered, not knowing how to answer. Eventually she decided it was best to start at the beginning.

"Well you know how, the third time we met, I… Or actually second time disregarding the time you were in an awful mood and behaved not proper at all…" She sighed. Why was she not able to use her words? It frustrated her immensely, her knowledge of words was her one strenght, and here she stood, unable to form a single coherent sentence. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. But at she remembered the reason for why she had been dancing, a big smile erupted on her face. She looked up at Thorin again.

"Ten days ago I sent a raven to the Iron Hills. It finally returned today with a letter. In this letter it was stated that he was visiting Erebor, and when coming would very much like to have a dance with me at the ball that will most certainly be held." Thankful for that she had found her words again, Hertha did not notice that Thorins hands formed tight fists at her words. She happily turned her back to him to retrieve the letter.

As she stood up again, Thorin grabbed her right arm, violently turning her around to face him. Hertha stared up at him, before down at her arm. It hurt. Her brother could at times act like this, but this scared her. There was something in his eyes, a sudden hatred she had never seen before. His eyes had shifted to a colour almost as black as his hair. Not sure whether to be scared or confused she simply held her tongue, ignoring the pain in her right arm.

"Who? Who wrote the letter?" The king under the mountain demanded.

Startled by his reaction, rendering Hertha unable to respond, she simply stood there extending the letter to him. Thorin took it with a suspicious glare. He glanced at the bottom of the letter, instantly recognising the signature as that of his cousin Dain. Realizing his mistake he felt his rage fade away, leaving him with the same feeling he had had after their first encounter.

He slumped to the ground, muttering some of the worst words Hertha knew in Khuzdul. He looked up at her with regret embedded in his whole face.

"I apologize. Please forgive me." Thorin said, his voice cracking.

"I do." Hertha replied, still perplexed at this newfound side of him.

* * *

Haldor listened to his sister telling him events of the day. It amused him that the king under the mountain was in love with his sister. That she did not notice, she who usually just had to glance at a situation to understand what was going on, humored him even more.

He was tempted to bash the kings head into the mountain for his behavior towards Hertha, but seeing as this would grant neither himself nor his sister any favours, he decided against it.

He turned his attention to Hertha once more. She was now telling how he had apologized so many times she could not keep count. Then he had suddenly realized he would be late for a meeting, prompting him to run of.

_Coward. _

Could not even portray is true feelings. Not that is mattered. Not now at least. The recipient of those feelings had yet to realize hers.

"Why do you think he became so angry?" Hertha asked him. Apparently hoping that a male could shed some light on the reasons behind the kings behaviour.

"Perhaps he did not know who would be so bold as to expect a ball upon arriving in Erebor. Taking it as an insult he let his rage out on you?" Haldor admitted to himself that it was not entirely unlikely. Hertha seemed pleased with that answer, as she had gotten up to brew some tea.

Haldor would not let a dwarf court, let alone marry, his sister who was not as capable as himself, or more, to protect her. Because of this, the only way for a dwarf to gain his approval was in besting him in a fistfight. There had been a few who had tried, those who had not given up when hearing they had to fight him, but none had succeeded.

Haldor smirked. He had probably done the king a favour. The king did have a far greater chance at winning than any of the dwarfs before him, but Haldor would certainly not go easy on him. King or not, Hertha was his most beloved sister and he would not easily give her to another.

**Authors' note**

We were done early with this one, so here you are! Hope you enjoy it, and as always we love to get feedback on what you like and what you do not like :)

It is a short one, but it felt like a natural place to finish. (sowwii)

Sofie and Hanne


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Due to a snowstorm that suddenly enclosed Erebor and the surrounding lands, Dains arrival to the mountain was delayed. Thus the Lord of the Iron Hills made his entrance in the dark, to a sleeping mountain. Thorin had remained awake in order to greet his cousin, muttering rude words towards the weather for ruining his already disrupted sleeping pattern. He was tired. He had spent the day bickering with the nobles about minor things, such as where their fireplaces should be fitted. His patience had grown thin. Why should he spend his days talking about fireplaces when so much of Erebor and Dale still was in ruins? Nobles were such a nuisance. They had their exceptions of course.

A faint smile formed on his lips as he thought of her. Followed by an urge to introduce the tip of Orcrist to the soft tissue of his abdomen. He had yet to see her after his outburst on the balcony. He felt foolish. Why had he done that? And why could he not muster up enough courage to face her again? He growled, at the nobles, and most of all, at himself.

"Why does my dear cousin have a face as if somebody has done him a great misdeed?" A voice boomed. Dain grinned broadly as he approached Thorin, his arms extended to hug him. Thorin frowned as he embraced his cousin.

"The misdeed was done by none other than myself, dear cousin." He answered as they stepped away from each other.

Dain raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting to hear of this misdeed. Thorin shaked his head.

"It is a private matter, one that I will have to fix myself."

Dain laughed. "I had no idea you had a private life, cousin. I thought you spent your days cutting heads of the pesky nobles."

"Oh. If they continue to press the importance of where their fireplaces should be positioned, heads will be rolling." Thorin growled, furrowing his eyebrows.

Dains laughter roared in the entrance halls. Slapping his left shoulder Dain effectively reopened the would Thorin had sustained during his final encounter with the pale orc. Thorin clenched his teeth. The healers had done a remarkable job, so much so that only a few weeks had passed before he was able to once again have virtually full mobility in both his arms. The past couple of days he had been able to resume training, but he now realized he would have to wait yet again.

"Come, let me show you and your company your quarters. If we hurry I might even get some sleep tonight." The king grumbled.

* * *

The winter sun did not shine the following day, the storm that had delayed Dain had calmed down but big white flakes continued to fall from the sky. Hertha had risen early to finish her duties before the day commenced. Not that she had many, but the few she had she always finished prior to beginning her day. She was pulling a bread from the stone oven as a knock pulled her back to reality, away from thoughts of the day ahead. The whole mountain was ecstatic as the king had announced there would be held a ball when the lord of the Iron Hills arrived. The ball would start in the evening, but if she knew Dain right he would not let it end for a few days.

As she crossed the room to answer the door she went through her plan for the day once more. First she would see Dain, then she had promised the children a story and if there was time before the ball she would go the balcony. She had not seen Thorin for a few days and it frustrated her. Their conversations brought her great joy, and whenever his schedule became too busy for him to spend time with her she missed him dearly.

The dwarf in front if the door was indeed a messenger asking her to accompany her to Dain. Hertha quickly removed her apron, only to realize her dress had changed colour from dark green to white. Frowning, Hertha tried to remove some of the flour. She quickly gave up, instead she picked up her basket, initiating to the messenger that she was ready to leave. It would not be the first time Dain saw her in a dirty dress, he had a tendency to pull her away while baking or cleaning.

* * *

If one would have been able to see the sun, one would see that it was setting. Thorin had just finished his last meeting for the day as he saw a horde of children sitting on the ground in a circle. He quickly backed into the shadows as he recognized the dark brown curls. She sat with her back to him. As he listened closely he realized she was telling the story of Enrir the cunning. A small smile found its way to his lips as he watched her suddenly stand up, animatedly acting out the first encounter between the dwarf and the troll. Thorin got as close as the shadows allowed it, intently listening to the story he had told her. She was a far better storyteller than him, the way she embroidered the story, the way she gave the characters distinct voices, she made the story come to life.

After she had told the children about the challenge set by the troll she went silent. The small dwarfs looked at her intently, waiting for her to continue. She rose to her feet, brushing of her dress. Some of the older ones groaned as the realized what was happening.

"The rest I will tell you tomorrow. But only if you behave at the ball tonight!" Groans and pleads erupted. Hertha laughed, stroking the hair of a young dwarf.

"I know, I know. But it is time for all of us to get ready. We all need a bath, and would it be such a good idea to turn up dirty to the first ball in Erebor?" The children groaned some more, especially at the thought of a bath. "Come along now, home with you! I am sure your parents are already searching for you!" Hertha laughed as she shooed them homewards. As soon as the last one had disappeared out of sight Thorin watched her pick up her dress, rushing towards a flight of stairs. He hurried after her when he realized where the stairs led.

Thorin called out for her after rushing up a few steps. He watched as she stopped abruptly, almost tripping as she turned around to face him.

"There you are!" She exclaimed with a broad smile.

Once again Thorin thought to himself that her heart was far too big for her body. Why was she not angry at him for his behaviour towards her.

"Here I am.." He breathed as she reached him. Standing a step higher than him she was now at the same height as him. Her green eyes sparkled in the low light that the lanterns in the stairway provided. Thorin cleared his throat, quickly rerouting the hand that had been on its way to Herthas hair to his own chin.

"Is there something the matter?"

Thorin cleared his throat again, trying to choose his words properly.

"I wish to apologize." "again" he sighed. "My behaviour was not proper, I had no right to lash out at you in that way, and I apologize profusely." Thorin looked down at his feet.

"Thorin, you must learn to let go. I do forgive you." He could hear the smile in her voice.

A soft hand caressed his beard, leading Thorin to raise his head and lock eyes with Hertha. "Truly, no hard feelings!"

He smiled weakly, his eyes still in a pained expression. He placed his own hand on hers, wishing it would never leave. Her hand was so much smaller than his.

Hertha cupped his face with both hands, shook it lightly before looking intensely into his eyes.

"Mahal, Thorin! Do not pout! It is a day of festivity! Drink! Eat! And if you must, fight!" "But do not get yourself hurt." She added. Thorin could do nothing else but to let a short laugh escape his lips.

"Can I see you tomorrow morning?" "At dawn?" He rasped.

"Do you truly believe you will be awake tomorrow at dawn?" She chuckled. "But I will be there." She smiled that smile that made his heart ache.

"I will be awake, and present." Thorin stated. He felt like a child, proving to mother that they could do something improbable.

Hertha nodded approvingly. "Alas, I fear I will have to excuse myself, as I need to get ready for the ball, but I am looking forward to tomorrow morning." She brushed past him, towards the hall they originally came from.

"Were you not heading for the balcony?" Thorin asked, loud enough for her to hear. He looked back at her as she turned her head towards him, stopping only a few steps away.

"Yes, but now there is no need to go there. I found what I was looking for." In the dim light Thorin could just see that her cheeks gained colour as she turned away again, making him grin widely as he stood alone on the staircase.

* * *

As hertha reached her quarters, she contemplated the events that would be taking place that evening. She wished to spare Thorin her causing a scene, and the embarrassment that would surely follow, were he to realize in public that she knew who he was. How could she avoid this? The question still lingering in her mind as she dried her hair after her bath.

Haldors spirits had been lifted from the grey clouds that was morning training of the new recruits by his visit to Dain that very afternoon. As he entered his sisters quarters and saw her putting the finishing touches on her attire, she spoke;

"What do you think, brother?"

"You look lovely, but I think something is missing"

Haldor turned around and fished out from her jewelry box, the siblings favourite necklace. A beautiful white gold miniature ax with intricate details engraved into the blade.

"Perhaps mother's pendant?" He suggested softly. "This will surely capture the attention of a certain mountain king" he teased. As he spoke, a deep frown was furrowing its way deep down between his sisters eyebrows.

"Is something the matter, sister?"

"I do not know whether I have the strength to resist meeting his gaze tonight" Hertha answered feeble, "but the consequences were he to find out the truth frightens me even more.

Haldor felt his rage rising and his fists clenched in his side as his sister spoke. He would not allow any dwarf to be the source of his sisters misery. The furrow between her brows made her face all the more resemble the one that his mother had adopted after their father had fallen.

He decided then and there that whatever he could do to rid his sister of worry that evening he would do.

"Why have you yet to speak to him on the matter?" he asked.

Hertha let out a deep sigh before contemplation rushed over her face.

"I do not know, perhaps it was because he did not introduce himself as King upon our first proper encounter, and it seemed as if though he liked not having to be king for once."

Hertha rose to her feet, surveying her brothers stout figure masterly framed by his attire she nodded. "But you brother will certainly capture the attention a every female dwarf present."

Haldor let out a roaring laugh as he took her hand and led her to their door. "I do believe you will be proven wrong tonight on that matter, sister."

They walked in silence until they were met with the contrasts between the dimly lit hallway from whence they came making the party altogether seem larger, brighter, and louder and struck them like a throw of wind much like the storm raging outside.

Haldor looked down at his little sister "Ready?"

**Authors' note:**

Hello lovely people of the inter webs! This chapter was probably as boring to read as it was to write, apologies. Sadly it necessary for the coming events, so please do forgive us!

Thank you soso much for your reviews, they really make it so much more fun to write! And a big thank you to Oud, Dhalmi93 and Stardurin1217 for taking your time to write a review for every chapter!

Next weeks update might be a smidge late, as I(Hanne) am going to get shitfaced with some fellow students in a cabin. So blame Sofie if there is no update! (No, no, please don't).

Have a good evening, Sofie and Hanne!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hertha took a deep breath as they stepped over the threshold, gripping onto her brother for security. She was no where near ready, she was nervous and did not actually wish to be here. Silently cursing the Lord of the Iron Hills for asking for her first dance she blindly followed her brother. Looking up she realized that she had indeed been right, the female population of Erebor took great interest in her brother. Pleased that she was not the center of attention she nudged her brother.

"If I am not mistaken, you have just aquired yourself a mountain worth of female attention." She chuckled.

Haldor stopped, surveying the room before turning to her. He leaned in to her ear. "Perhaps, but the one in charge of the mountain has yet to take his eyes of you." He whispered.

A gasp escaped her lips. She doubted that there was any truth in his words, but the idea made her blush nonetheless. When she tried to verify his words, she realized that Haldor had positioned himself so that she could not look at the King. She sent her brother a thankful smile.

"Come, let us find a seat." Haldor said as he straightened himself out, holding out his arm for her to grab. Hooking her arm into his, she let her brother lead her around the crowd and the tables that occupied the grand hall. Hertha looked around at the festivities, trying her best not to look over in the general direction of where the royals were seated. Her gaze soon turned upward, towards the ceiling and it's intricate designs. The dwarven architecture never ceased to amaze her. She barely heard the chuckle her brother let out as she rather ungracefully followed him, too busy studying the design on a nearby pillar.

A nudge made Hertha reluctantly lower her gaze till she met that of her brother. He nodded towards a table a few steps away, there were two free seats next to a dwarf almost as big as Haldor, the dwarfs head covered in tattoos instead of hair.

"Come."

As they reached the table the hairless dwarf turned to greet them. "Haldor!" He exclaimed, the two dwarfs were clearly on friendly terms.

"Dwalin!" Haldor nodded. "Let me introduce my sister to you, Hertha, Dwalin. Dwalin, Hertha." Hertha curtsied as best she could, she did not wish to embarrass her brother in front of his friend.

Taking their seats next to the captain of Erebor, Hertha found herself sitting between the two large dwarfs, making her feel, and as she suspected, look, rather small.

Dwalin had inquired about how she liked Erebor, her day and what it was like to live with her brother when the food arrived. She had replied, to her brothers protests, truthfully, only excluding her friendship with Thorin. She thought it best not to talk about that with one of the kings closest friends. As the food did arrive the trio fell two warriors were both a full head taller than her even sitting down, so they could easily talk to each other above her head. The topic of their conversation soon drifted towards weapons and training, causing Hertha to quickly lose interest. She tried to converse with some of the other dwarfs around the table, but as the fifth asked how it was to have Haldor as her brother she found herself in dire need of some quiet and fell deep into her own thoughts.

* * *

Thorin let a disgruntled sigh escape as he realized he could no longer see Hertha. Her brothers large figure completely obscured hers. He did not wish to take his eyes of her, in fact, he had not ceased to gaze at her, or at least where he guessed she had to be, since she had entered the room.

When she had entered he had immediately stopped listening to his nephews' colourful tale of the morning training. Though she dressed in a way the other nobles might call bland, not showered her attire in jewellery to show her status, to him she shone brighter than any of them. Her dress cream white with cerulean embroidery in traditional dwarish patterns on the sleeves and the hem of the dress, only seemed to make her eyes look more like precious gems and her hair more coppery than he had seen before. As far as Thorin could tell Hertha only wore a simple necklace, however the nature of it was hidden by the distance between them. Her brown, now almost coppery curls were tamed into a simple braid that lingered on her shoulder before it slipped to her back as she had turned to her brother.

Thorin had met Haldors gaze as the warrior scanned the room, only to be awarded with a small smile before he had turned towards his sister. Thorin had clenched his teeth as the larger dwarf bent down and whispered something. First he had thought it concerned him, but as Hertha had made no incentive to look his way he let out a long held breath. His eyes had followed them around the room, a faint smile playing on his lips when Hertha had lost herself in the dwarven architecture.

When he could no longer see Hertha, he let his eyes along with his thoughts wander. As his cousin on his left emptied his sixth ale, his nephews chattered on.

Fili and Kili had been discussing the purchase of new weapons and were eager to test them, when Fili grew silent. He followed his uncle's gaze and noted they were still locked on the small dwarf-maid crammed between Dwalin and a very large dwarf, whom Fili had seen train the new recruits with Dwalin. He nudged his brother who followed his movement from before. As Kili's eyes met his, they had a look to them that was both quizzical and conclusive. The past few weeks Thorin had had an air about him that seemed lifted. Even when he was stuck in meetings with the nobles he had shown notably more patience. Kili mouth was pulled upwards and his eyes narrowed. The brothers' gaze wandered to Thorin and the youngest of the two took to the word.

"Why are you staring at the petit dwarf next to Dwalin?", he asked.

Kili's question ripped Thorin out of his trance-like state. A thundering laugh came roaring from the dwarf to his left. He could feel Dains eyes piercing him from his side before he finally spoke. Dains words revealed to all three the identity of Hertha and her brother, Haldor. He was a warrior of great magnitude, skilled with both sword, spear and ax. He was so large he could take down a bear with only his hands. Thorin thought to himself that there was at least one bear who would without a doubt best the large dwarf.

"The complete opposite of his sister", Dain continued.

"The small one? She looks so feeble. Like she cannot hold her own" Fili commented.

"She may not be able to weald a sword, but her mind is as sharp as my blade." Thorin grumbled, unable to stop himself from defending her honour.

Once again the brothers' eyes met. Poorly concealing a frail laugh Fili asked his uncle why she had not glanced in his direction all night.

"Who is this maid to you?", Kili asked

"A friend" were the only words they could get out of the reticent king.

"A friend, eh?" belched Dain.

And he ratted on about how wonderful she was, and how being in her favour was a place one would very much like to be.

"Even a king?" the youngest teased

"Oh aye lad"

"And does the king favour her?" Fili chimed in

"Me being king has nothing to do with our friendship" Thorin grunted.

"Of course it matters, you are the most powerful dwarf in the mountain, in her home."

"What I think Thorin ment is that he has yet to tell her he is the king."

The new voice to the conversation was that of Balin, the Kings advisor.

"And I think we should let him be the one to disclose his own identity" he continued.

Thorin turned to face his friend, shooting a look drenched with both gratitude and antipathy.

"Tell her? Believe me, I have no doubt that she is plenty aware that you are the king, Thorin".

It seemed that all the blood had drenched from Thorins face, the moment his cousins words had escaped his lips.

Fili shot a worried glance over to his brother, and the two lowered their heads together and spoke in a hushed tone.

Together they decided they needed to see for themselves who this dwarf maid really was.

"Uncle seems taken. I need to know..."

"Agreed" the other one chimed in. Fili did not need to finish his speech, his brother knew to a tee what he meant and what he needed.

Before final words were spoken, the crown prince was ripped away from the conversation by one of the nobles who blatantly announced his arrival.

Glances were exchanged, closely succeeded by nods.

Kili turned around and started walking towards the odd trio that had taken up much of the previous discussion. Although clearing the distance did little for her height, he could see now that she was not as small as she had first appeared.

As he walked Kili thought again to his brothers words. Who was this dwarf? She would not be considered a great dwarven beauty, and yet she seemed to have captured Thorins attention as well as admiration. And it was clear that Dain was very fond of her. Could she be the source of his uncle's newfound happiness?

The maid rose from her seat and when he reached her they stood next to the smorgasbord.

Kili cleared his throat to gain her attention before he bowed. she turned seeming surprised, but politely greeted him with a courtesy. The introduction revealed that which Dain had already said, her name and status. With disguised and eluted questions and non-informative and equally eluted answers Kili soon got the impression that their feelings were indeed mutual. It seemed she cared a great deal about his uncle. Kili flashed a smile from his own conclusion. Her mild demeanor and modest attire suggested that she had no wish to gain anything from a relation with his uncle.

He surveyed her. Wondering again how she had captured Thorins attention. Thinking back at the years he had known his uncle he realized he never knew what Thorin looked for in a mate, nor had he ever seen him take any particular interest in any.

As he returned to the conversation he realized she had not stopped talking about the staggering architecture that surrounded them. Nodding politely at appropriate times he scanned both the conversation as well as the surrounding area to look for an acceptable exit.

It was at that moment the burly voice of the Lord of the Iron Hills announced its master. He tuned to kili and said in a stoutly

"May I steal this lovely maiden away from you? You see she has promised me a dance, and i would like to know whether the offer still stands"

"Then I will not stand in your way. Please." he said gesturing towards the maid beside them both.

Dain led her out on the dancefloor as the last song ended, taking their places. As the music commenced the dwarfs on the dancefloor began to move to it. Dain began to explain in great length how he had killed a bear on his journey to the Lonely Mountain, giving her the details as explicit as possible. Hertha tried to listen, but as she got a swift look at Kili, who now stood next to Fili, while twirling around on the dancefloor her thoughts turned to the strange conversation she had had with the prince. She could not find a good reason as to why the prince of Erebor wished to speak to her.

Moving away from Dain she quickly lowered her eyes to avoid meeting Thorins gaze. The rest of the dance Hertha concentrated on not looking in the general direction of the king. When the dance came to an end the participants applauded politely. Shortly after hearing the end of Dains story Hertha excused herself, leaving the ball as she was tired and wished to no longer watch her gaze.

**Authors' note:**

Good day happy folk! Hope you enjoy this weeks chapter! Fair warning, as the next few weeks are quite busy for the pair of us, there is a chance that next weeks update will have to be pushed back a week. Hope this does not bring to much inconvenience, but that a rather long chapter and the promise of a heartfelt next one makes up for that.

(Also, sorry in advance to Stardurin1217 for any meltdown caused by us. Xx)

Yours truly, Sofie and Hanne.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Despite the knowledge of who awaited him on the other end of this accursed obstacle, climbing the stairway Thorins head felt heavy, as did his arms, his chest, his legs, even his feet seemed to betray him.

He had counted the number of steps many a time before, 150 steps to his sanctuary. 150 from the great hall. As a nauseating feeling grew in the pit of his stomach he rushed the last few steps to the balcony. Leaning over the railing he waited to be reunited with his dinner from last night. When it failed to greet him he swallowed hard, his hands supporting him on the railing as he leaned backwards letting out a deep sigh. A frail laugh originating from the area behind him ripped him away from his stance. Slowly his whole body turned towards the sound, revealing to him the reason for his early rise.

Hertha had retired to her quarters rather early the previous night, and knowing that she would be deprived of her sleep when her brother returned she had surrendered to her bed. When sleep became impossible, she had risen, grabbed a rug along with a book and headed to their balcony. Sitting there the cold crept upon her as dawn rose over the horizon. However in fear of missing her upcoming company she had remained, snugging tighter and trying to keep herself from shivering. Cradling the book in front of her, her trancelike state broke as Thorin had rushed into the room and headed for the balcony.

The majesty that seemed lost on him as he leaned over and surrendered to nature made Hertha laugh. She stood up as he turned around and unable to keep the grin from her face, she made a deep courtesy.

Thorin grunted, "Will this be your mood for the day?"

Straightening up Hertha apologized, "Nevertheless master dwarf, you must admit, you look rather terrible".

She continued "How many ales did you conquer last night?"

"I cannot say for certain. " He said, mimicking the matter in which she spoke. "I must have lost count"

The silence that followed his statement, was briskly interrupted by his roaring laughter mixing with hers.

Thorin had taken a seat on the rug, and as Hertha went to join him she realized he had sat down in the middle of it, so that there was no room for her.

"Thorin, could you please…" She said with a dubiously look while gesticulating with her hands that he should move. She stood right in front of him, her toes aligned with his. When she noticed the smirk on his face it was too late for her to react, as he had already taken hold of her arms, dragging her down to the floor. She found herself nestled between his legs, her back to his wide chest. When she instinctively tried to free herself she felt his strong arms clench around her waist, keeping her in place.

"Stay." He grunted, tightly gripping her. Though he said it in a commanding tone, she knew he would let go if she asked. Hearing the plea in his voice she complied, relaxing her muscles and settling into his embrace. She placed her hands over his, as she rested her head on his chest.

"This is really not proper." She said, almost whispering. "What if somebody were to see us?"

"As of now I care not for prying eyes", he said resting his cheek atop of her head.

Satisfied with his reply, Hertha closed her eyes, finally noticing how she felt warm for the first time since leaving her bed that morning.

A silence fell upon them. Their breaths synchronizing and heartbeats steadying. When Hertha asked if her hair did not tickle him, and received no reply, she ventured a gaze and realized he had fallen asleep.

She shifted her gaze which now fell on her book, resting just out of reach. Attempting to grab it she first set her luck on her foot. When it failed her, she leaned forward, careful not to wake the King with any sudden movement, whilst at the same time not wanting to abandon his grip. Cradling her retrieved book she settled into his warm embrace once more. A few anxious moments passed as Hertha waited for any sign of Thorin waking up. When none came, she settled her book in front of her and began reading. Some time passed with no sound but the turning of pages and the heavy breathing of the sleeping King.

Hertha felt quite secure in the arms of the large dwarf, and she could not keep a smile from her lips when Thorins head fell forward, nuzzling her neck. She unconsciously reciprocated the gesture and leaned her head against his. Though she did not keep this position for long, as it made reading quite difficult. When she withdrew her head she felt Thorins body twitch, and heard a sharp inhale.

"Good morning, have you slept well?" She teased. Thorin grumbled, though she could feel his lips forming a wide grin.

Lifting his head, he tried to discreetly stretch his body.

"I apologize, I did not intend for one of us to spend the short time we have together unconscious."

"Oh, it matters not, I enjoy your company regardless of your state of consciousness." Hertha chuckled. "Besides, someone occupying a position as important as yours should always be well rested."

Thorin thought nothing of her odd words at first, but as their significance began to sink in he grew silent. An uncomfortable silence fell upon them, both bodies tense, awaiting the others reaction. Thorin inhaled deeply before he broke the silence, his hands forming fists. He was not sure he wished to know the truth.

"So Dain was right? You know who I am?"

He could feel the reluctance in her petite body.

"Yes," she finally answered "I guessed as much at our first proper encounter."

The balcony fell silent once more.

"Thank you." He rasped, pulling her closer to himself. "Thank you for not treating me differently when you knew who I really am."

He felt her pull away from him, turning around, she sat on her knees, facing him. A small smile played on her lips as she lifted a hand to caress his cheek.

"I care not for your social standing, you can be king or beggar, that does not change what we have. When we first met I did not see a grumpy noble, I only saw a dwarf in need of the same solitude as I."

He lifted his hand, cradling her jaw and stroking her lower chin with his thumb. He smiled as he tilted his head forwards, their foreheads resting on each others'. His eyes sought hers, before they glimpsed at her lips.

The silence was abruptly interrupted when Thorins stomach blatantly announced it was in need of substinance. A sigh left Thorins lips when Hertha chuckled. Removing her forehead from his she straightened herself out.

"My brother will be awake soon, and I have yet to eat breakfast, will you not join us?"

"Yes, it would be my pleasure." He smiled.

**Authors' note:**

Spirited on by all your kind words and understanding, we soldiers through and wrote a chapter for this week that you hopefully enjoyed! We certainly enjoyed writing it, having a few fangirly moments. Just a few.

But we do need to ask a favor! As there will most probably be a wedding at some point in this fanfiction, we need information on how dwarfs court! It seems that many share the thought of them braiding each others hair and clipping in a family-clip, but does anybody actually have any good sources for this knowledge?! We need to know!

Lots of love, Sofie and Hanne.

P.S. No, it is not allowed to come with death threats.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Standing outside the entrance to her home Hertha now felt very nervous. Was it really a good idea to bring Thorin into her home? Not that it made a difference, she could not back down now. Looking up and down at the king she could not stop herself from making a displeased sound.

"You are a mess, Thorin." She sighed as she tried to straighten out his coat. When he made no notion to improve his exterior, she locked eyes with him.

"Please sort out your hair. I do not wish that you make a bad impression on my brother."

"I am the King, he should be the one making an impression on me." Thorin grumbled. This awarded him an eye roll and a frail laugh.

Hertha then lead the way into the home she shared with her brother.

Inside Haldor was feeding more wood to the fire, as it had lost some of it's life while he was taking a bath. His head was pounding and his whole body simply felt heavy, and although the bath had helped to some extent, he now lay down on his back before the fire. Closing his eyes Haldor tried to catch up on the sleep he had been deprived of. It was when he lay there before the fire, completely naked, that he realized he still had to train the recruits that day.

With a displeased grunt he got up and went to clothe himself. As he would be training, he simply put on his brechers, seeing no point in putting on a tunic he would no doubt dispose of. As he reappeared in the living room he was greeted with an unexpected sight. His sister had returned, looking quite happy, with none other than the King at her side.

"Good morning." Bringing the attention to himself he bowed to the pair. They did look good together, in an odd way, and the kings interests in his sister was clear as day.

"Would you be so kind and introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh, yes of course." Hertha smiled, seemingly relieved that he had not made any snide remarks.

"Haldor, this is Thorin, my friend. And this, Thorin, is my brother Haldor." The two dwarfs bowed to each other.

As they once again locked eyes Thorin remarked that although he had seen Herthas brother before, then as well as now judging him to be of impressive stature, he had never felt so small relative to another of his own kind. Drawing closer, the other dwarf seemed to gain size disproportionately to the decreasing distance between them. In his mind the king nursed a seaking suspicion that Haldor had made an effort to look larger, and with that Thorin smaller.

Approaching the king, Haldor found himself thinking that Thorin made notable figure all by his lonesome. Nevertheless when he compared the king to himself, Haldor was far larger. Without giving it much thought, as well as not truly becoming aware of what he had done, Haldor found that as they drew closer, he had plumped himself up, making him look even larger than usual.

Hertha made herself busy preparing breakfast for the three of them, leaving the brother and the King standing, facing each other in the common area. Keeping his face unreadable and stone-like as was his custom, Thorin seemed to waver from this only when the lady moving about in the kitchen caught his eye. Upon these occasions emotions rushed to the surface and softened his features.

"So, you finally found out that she knew of your position?" Haldor commented, as he watched his sister. Not waiting for a reply he continued.

"I had hoped that you would find out sooner, as she was very..." Haldor paused, searching for the right word. "...uneasy, at the ball last night. I have no doubt she would have stayed at home had it not been for Dain's request to dance with her. She wished to spare you from any public scandal, were you to realize that she knew with the whole kingdom present."

Haldor turned to look at the king. Lowering his head to the kings ear, so only he could hear his words, he began to speak.

"If your affection for her does not run as deeply as hers, if your only intentions towards my little sister are that of the flesh, I suggest you turn around and disappear from our lives this instant."

Straightening himself out, Haldor looked down his nose at the dwarf before him. He had suspected that the kings intention were those of the heart, that much had been clearly indicated the previous night, and when he now looked at the dwarf in front of him, he knew.

Thorin's stone face cracked around the eyes, as they defiantly locked with those of the larger dwarf.

"I can assure you, Haldor, son of Halvar, that my affections run deeper than the very core of this mountain." He spat. Though he had made a similar speech to his own sisters suitors, he still felt mocked.

A wide grin formed on Haldors face. It was the first time that his little speech had had the desired effect. He slapped his left hand on Thorins back, making the king jump forwards by the impact, clenching his teeth as his battle wound was struck yet again, he hoped that the blow would not reopen the wound.

"Welcome to our home!" Haldor laughed.

Hertha looked through the doorway as Haldors hand landed on Thorins back. A slight crease found it's way to her forehead as she watched the pair.

"Haldor, do not so lightly strike a blow to a dwarf who has been inflicted with wounds of war that may have yet to heal." Hertha remarked, her eyes lingering on her friend. When Thorin nodded as if to say he was alright, her features softened. Although she could not get herself to quite believe him, she was not of the conviction that the king would not be so foolish as to refrain from seeking help when help was needed. At least in manners such as this.

The trio gathered around the table that Hertha had set. It was a simple meal, consisting of bread, dried, salted meat and grilled vegetables.

The conversation flowed easily as the meal progressed, and Thorin was relieved that there seemed no ill will around the table. Nevertheless he did notice that Haldor seized every opportunity to show him that Hertha was by no means the Kings. It started innocently enough with a few well placed, well- timed jokes that only the siblings would understand, but when Thorin answered tit for tat, the conversation soon became a silent battle of who had the best relationship with Hertha. The two large dwarves competing and the little one seemingly none the wiser.

It was when the trio moved from the kitchen area to sit before the fire in the common room that Haldor landed the winning blow over his opponent, asking Hertha to braid his hair before training. Though it was not his own hair being braided, merely watching her fiddle made Thorin happy. Pleased with the result Hertha let go of her brothers hair, who got up and went to dress himself properly, as he had till now sat topless. The fact that Hertha, aside from the occasional stern look clearly indicating her displeasure with her brothers attire, seemed accustomed to this sight, worried Thorin more than he cared to admit.

When Haldor had left, Hertha seated herself beside Thorin.

"I must apologize for my brother, he does not usually behave in this manner", she said as she absentmindedly lifted a hand and let her finger intertwine with Thorins lock.

The moment, however short, as the hand disappeared almost as swiftly as it had been introduced, lingered in the mind of the king. The gesture it seemed had rendered him stunned to the point that he could not muster a reply. All he could manage was a smile matching that of the lady before him.

Still out of sort, Thorin could not quite capture what Haldor had said upon his return to the room, but thinking hard landed him with a few key words; talk about Dain, advisors and how this was not proper. Not wishing to let slip the fact that he had not been listening, Thorin quickly asked the siblings how they had found the ball.

It was only when he drew his attention back to the present that he realized something was off, yet he could not put his finger on it as the siblings hurriedly answered and the feeling passed. The time passed quickly as they talked, and soon both Haldor and Thorin had to depart as they had their duties to attend to. Haldor had to train the recruits, and Thorin had a meeting with Dain, regarding a treaty of the trade between the two Lords.

Author´s note:

Apologies to you all for the delay in this weeks chapter, time has been scarce and we have had to rely on texts and phone-calls, as well as a rather unsettling lack of internet to finish the chapter. In spite of all that we do hope it will as we say go home to you all, seeing as how the evens of this chapter sets up for quite a great many things to come.

As always your humble writers Hanne and Sofie


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Thorins head was still heavy as he made his way to meet with the Lord of the Iron Hills, but no where near as heavy as when he had left his bed that morning. In turn had his heart gained weight, even though he had not thought it possible.

The meeting itself went smoothly, as the treaty had taken both sides into consideration and given both a fair deal. It was soon signed by both parties, after a few minor changes.

Thorin and Dain retreated to the kings study where they treated themselves to some mead. Soon the conversation flowed as easily as the beverage .

«I must say, this treaty you have had written up is one of the best I've seen in a long time. You must give my regards to the author.»

«Oh, aye! She is most fantastic with her words. I do not know how she does it…» Dain paused, deep in thought. «…T'is a shame that she and her brother moved to Erebor, they will both be greatly missed.» He said, mostly to himself.

Thorin's head jolted up as the Lord of the Iron Hills spoke. The feeling of something being off returned, only this time he knew what was off. His hands clenched around the armrests of the chair in which he sat as he came to the conclusion. Hertha. She had not meant to be his friend, she simply used him to gain information. She had betrayed him. His heart fluttered when he realised this, to think that she could do such thing, she who was so precious to him. His eyes grew dark with hatred. No one would betray him, Thorin, son of Thror, son of Thrain, and get away with it unharmed.

Thorin rose abruptly from his chair. The jolt startled the Lord of Iron Hills, making him spill his mead over himself.

«That nithing! She will pay!» He growled before he left the room with determined steps and clenched fists.

Hertha was sitting quietly before the fire, clenching a book when the door opened with such great noise one might think Smaug the terrible had entered her home. She quickly rose to her feet to see what or indeed who could have made this ruckus. The sight that met her was truly a frightening one. In mere seconds Thorin stood towering over her, his whole manner oozing of hatred. Hatred it seemed towards her.

"Thorin. What is the matter?" Hertha managed whilst taking a step back. The book landed on the floor with an unstifled ´thud´ as she raised her hand keeping the king at bay.

"You! I trusted you!" He spat, his voice dripping with bitterness and contempt.

"You veslingr"

"How dare you betray me like that? How dare you betray my trust? I am your king. Your friend! How could you?"

"You treacherous, thieving wench!"

Each word flew through the air, landing like a hard blow to her abdomen. From where did this sudden hatred come? Under his gaze she felt herself shrink, moving backwards from his foul words, his contempt-ridden voice, until the stone wall behind her stopped her, trapped her.

Trying to keep her voice level and calm she spoke, "Thorin, tell me. What have I done to deserve such insults?", she had failed, her voice cracked, despair and hurt seethed through her calm words.

No doubt it was her tone that made the king pause for a second. His crease ever slightly straightening out and cold withdrew from his gaze.

But as quickly as it had gone, the crease and the cold returned.

"Do not insult me by saying you do not know of what i speak! YOU have worked for Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, whilst living under MY mountain. Whilst pretending to be MY friend."

The blood drained from her face as revelation rush over it. She withdrew her gaze just in time to see his face drenched in that of blazing fire and cold hatred.

"Kalkûna!" He spat, before he turned to leave.

"NO, Thorin, you misunderstand!" Hertha sprung forwards, taking hold of his left arm.

"Thorin, please, listen to me." She begged, holding onto him as hard as she could. Not hard enough it seemed for it was gone with little effort from the King.

Without turning he laid their friendships to ruin as he spoke the words Hertha feared most from him. "Get out of my sight. I will have nothing better than to never lay my eyes upon you again"

Tears began to fill her eyes and her heart cracked as she tried to the door in an effort to block it.

«Yes, I wrote that treaty. And I am sorry for that, a thousand times over, but most of it I wrote when I lived in the Iron Hills, when you were not my King. I only finished it here. I even made changes to far fair the deal and I was too proud to allow someone else take credit for it."

The words had hurried from her lips. She hoped that he would understand, that he would forgive. But he only pushed her aside. Slumping down on the ground she felt desperation take hold of her. He could not leave, what they had could not end.

She grabbed hold of his hand.

«Don't leave.» She whispered. The look she received made her let go of him. He hated her. That much was clear and he would never forgive her.

«Thorin, I'm SORRY!» She cried, as tears flowed down her face.

* * *

A fortnight had passed since Thorin had last seen Hertha. It had not fared well for his nature, he had grown even more short tempered, growling at everything that brought her to mind, which happened to be almost anything. He could not look at the books in his study, the pillars in the Hall of Kings nor paper and quill without growling at it, as if it had deceived him. It was this he was doing as he and Dwalin walked to oversee the training of the recruits. Entering the hall he immediately caught eye of her brother.

Haldor was walking from the back of the training area towards the King and the Captain when a young dwarf ran as fast as he could muster past the two and towards the great dwarf. Haldors face paled as the young dwarf spoke.

He soon ran towards the exit, only to stop in front of Thorin and Dwalin.

"Forgive me, but I can not attend this meeting as sudden private matters are of more importance."

Dwalin enquired as to the meaning of these matters, clearly shaken by the way Haldor meant to leave them.

"My sister."

Haldors gaze lingered on the king.

"She has been hurt." Without waiting for any approval of his departure, he left. Or rather, he ran.

Thorin's face had paled as Haldor spoke. He could not lie to himself and say he was not worried. Yet, the matter in which they last spoke made it quite difficult for him to go barging after her brother. He clenched his fists.

The mountain was fast asleep when Thorin entered the healing quarters. He had paced his study the width of the mountain before he finally ventured to see her. As he stepped over the threshold he now began to wonder if it was such a good idea.

Hertha had been lain in the last bed in the room. Standing there by the bed, Thorin could not hold back a faint smile, but as the curtain surrounding her was withdrawn every trace of happiness was stripped from his face. Hertha looked atrocious. Her face pale as the moon, eyes sunk in, even her curls seemed to have lost all life. Her left hand lay over the cover, bandaged from wrist to elbow, with bony fingers sticking out.

The back of his hand caressed her cheeks, the fingers intertwining with her locks.

"What happened to you?" He whispered, sad eyes gazing the unconscious maiden before him.

"She was cleaning our fathers weapons, when one fell from the mount on the wall." The voice came from behind. Thorin needed not turn, he knew who it was.

Haldor snorted. "You know what she did, after it had hit her? She bandaged herself, cleaned up the pool of blood, as well as the sword, and then she made her way here." Thorin stared at her, he was not surprised. Such an act was in her nature.

"Or, she tried to. She fainted, having lost too much blood. The healer says she will be quite alright, though. In time."

Thorin looked up at Haldor. He was met with eyes ladened with sorrow, contrasting to the thinly veiled hatred he had been met with till now. He walked to the other side of the bed, standing opposite the king.

"After your ... fight, she seemed to lose all will to live. She would not eat, only that which I all but forced down her throat, she barely slept and never ventured outside. She would sit and stare at the fire for hours, not saying a word. It was not till the fifth day that I learned what had happened."

Haldor moved a lock from her face.

"I know that her judgement was poor, and what she did was wrong. But if you put yourself in her shoes, you might understand why she did what she did.

Dain has always been like an uncle to us, and when word arrived that you would try and retake Erebor she immediately began to write the treaty. There were some things she could not foresee, the price of gold for example, so she could not complete the treaty before moving here. In her mind, she simply finished it, filled in the blanks…

When you came to her... She understands your anger, and she blames herself for destroying your friendship. It is this blame that has taken the life out of her, she cannot forgive herself for what she has done. I beg you, even if it is not true in your heart, pray say you forgive her. That way she might be able to forgive herself, and find the will to live, not simply be."

Thorin stared at Hertha. To think that she had faded away like this. Breathing was suddenly strenuous, as if there was not enough room in his chest. He sat down on the chair next to the bed, hoping this would ease the breathing.

As he looked up at her brother, he saw how tired he was, how the worry for his sister drained him.

"Haldor... Go home, get some sleep. I will stay."

It surprised him that Haldor complied. Thorin watched as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, before bowing to him and leaving the room. Perhaps he thought not so badly of Thorin as he had made him believe.

Thorin looked at Hertha again. A mere ghost of the lady she had been with a fortnight ago. He settled into the chair as he tried to understand his own feelings, and decide what he would do.

He still felt betrayed, there was no way around it. She had betrayed him, and the fact that she never told him, the fact that she actually had worked for Dain, it hurt. But he could not turn his back to her, not after he had seen what had become of her. He still cared for her, deeply, and it broke his heart to even think of a life without her.

A question, that he had time and again pushed away, crept into his thoughts. Was it love?

**Authors' note:**

Yeah... We all know the answer to that, but for the time being, lets just pretend we don't. Meanwhile, please do not kill us. If you have been paying attention, you would have seen that we have sprinkled hints towards this reveal from the very beginning. Hope you amazing readers all have had(and are still having) a wonderful Easter.

Happy Easter, Sofie and Hanne.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Nurtu Mamahrân. The day of the Burned. The whole mountain was in silence. No songs sung. No ale drunk. A day of remembrance, for those who lay down their lives before the gates of Moria, in the battle of Azanulbizar._

_It was a day meant to be spent with family, telling stories of those who did not return home._

_Hertha sighed. Haldor had disappeared long before dawn. She knew he would. He always did. He found refuge in training, letting his anger out on a wooden pole or a poor dwarf. Leaving her alone with her sorrow._

_Noon had come and gone as she was still awaiting his return, hoping he would realise that his sword was not the only thing in need of company. Now, though, her patience had run too thin. She found herself desperately in need of his company. _

_When walking past the entrance to the mountain she saw that the first snow had fallen, leaving the landscape all in white. She had always nursed a true love for the first day of snow. But today the cold, pale drops dancing in the wind made her desperately sad. _

_After wandering the mountain for long she spotted a company of dwarfs, and what was better, in the midst of them was the captain of Erebor. Haldor regarded him a friend, the two warriors shared many interests._

_Hertha hurried to the dwarf, keeping her eyes fixed on him. _

_"Captain Dwalin." She curtsied._

_The large dwarf turned to her. Before he had come up from his bow Hertha began to speak._

"_Would you be so kind as to take me to my brother, Haldor? I believe he is in the training halls, either hacking a wooden pole to the size of an arrow, or almost killing a poor soul." _

"_I would advise against it as it is not proper of a lady of noble birth to appear in those halls. Your appearance may prove distracting for the dwarfs in training."_

_Hertha stifled a scream and resisted the urge to cry and strike the dwarf. She agreed with him, though, her presence could lead to injuries. But she needed her brother. Today, more than ever. Being in Erebor, the mountain that her father loved, the mountain he fought for, the mountain for which he laid down his life, only making this day far harder to bear. _

_As was her custom, her emotions did not pass the surface, only her brother could lure that out of her, and he had long since learned that this was not wise. _

"_And I regret to tell you, Captain Dwalin, that on this day of all days, I care little for what is proper."_

_She heard a few of the other dwarfs scoff with displeasure._

"_I am deeply in need of his company. And so is he. The battle still haunts him, and he believes that it is best to bury those memories deep within while trashing all that crosses his path. But he needs to talk, or at least listen." She paused. "And I will not linger in the training halls, my only wish is to bring my brother home."_

_The large dwarf glared at her. She felt the seconds slowly dragging by. Where others might have averted their eyes and been intimidated by this gesture, Hertha knew full well the different glares and when it was best to leave and when one should stand one's ground. A grunt. A nod. He turned, inclining her to follow. _

_She felt her shoulders sink. She had not realised she had held her breath. Picking up the hem of her dress, she quickly caught up with him. "Thank you."_

_Upon reaching the training halls Hertha was surprised by how many dwarfs were training. Some were sparring, others wrestling or simply doing strength exercises. In the far back she thought she could spot somebody shooting arrows. She found her brother in a wrestling match with a dwarf almost half his size. The dwarf held up well, using his height as an advantage rather than a fault. _

_Hertha hurried to where they were wrestling. She had already begun to make a commotion by simply being there, so she did not wish to stay longer than needed. Haldor had by then seen her, giving the shorter dwarf an opportunity to hit him in the stomach, resulting in Haldor whacking one large hand on the dwarfs head, rendering him unconscious. He was not pleased to see her. _

_Towering in front of her, his chest rising and falling heavily from the exercise, he knew exactly what she would say. She knew that he knew. _

"_Please Haldor… I need you." Hertha looked up at him, paying no mind to the other dwarfs. _

"_... Being in Erebor. It makes it harder. I need to speak to you. We need to talk."_

"_We can talk when I return home." He grunted, clearly wanting this conversation to end. _

"_And when will that be?", she asked. "You will not be home before the sun is high on the sky again. You will hide away here, not eat or sleep and train till you hurt yourself."_

"_Leave." His voice echoed in the vast hall. _

_Could he really be this shortsighted, this stubborn? Was he so blinded by his own grief that he could not see that she needed him. He was not the only one that had lost a parent that day. Her hands clenched to fists, tears piling up in the corner of her eyes. She struck out, wanting to slap his face. But right before her hand hit she stopped herself and simply stroke it over his beard. _

"_You are not the only one who lost somebody that day. And unlike our father, I am still alive." She spoke softly, as if not to startle him. When he made no sign to move, she curtsied before abruptly turning, swiftly leaving the hall. _

_Haldor tiredly ran his hands over his face. She was angry. He knew that much. But he did not wish to talk. He could not. And he would not. As he looked up he met Dwalin's glare. The captain simply shook his head in disapproval before following Haldors sister. A cry of rage escaped as he took hold of the nearest object, a wooden pole that had yet to be secured in the ground, and threw it across the hall. _

_Shadowed by Dwalin Hertha headed for the gate. She hoped the captain of Erebor was wise enough not to stop her. She was close to losing her composure. Not that it showed. When she was greeted by some of the parents to the children she spent her days with, they did not see that she was upset. If she did not chose to show it, nobody ever did. _

_She ventured out of the mountain for the first time since arriving. Leaving it behind she found a secluded field, slumping to the ground. The snow was bitingly cold, making her shiver. May be she should just get ill. She saw no reason not to. She lay down in the snow, letting the cold bite every part of her body. Closing her eyes she brought forth the memories she had of her parents. She missed them dearly. A single tear escaped her eyes. Siftly followed by another, and another. She pressed her hands against her eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming. She silently lay in the snow, her whole body shaking from both cold and sorrow. _

_In between her sobs the muffled sound of twigs snapping and branches cracking, suddenly tore her away from her sorrow and she stopped abruptly and sat up. Now surrounded by the night she felt the striking heat closing in on her. She scrambled to her feet as she tried to reach the mountain to save her loved ones. rising to the night sky and rushing past her as she ran, the embers hungerly flickered as it ate through the woods near the mountain. Drawing closer to the mountain she was abruptly brought to a halt by the flames closing in front of her. She could not reach them. She stopped. She felt the ground shake, then a roar louder than the cry of a thousand giants came thundering from below. _

_The ground split, engulfing the mountain in its entirety. She heard the cries of loved ones as the gorge closed up again, leaving her alone with nothing but the flames. They hungrily flickered at her, taking hold of her clothing and hair. In a vain effort to fend them off she lay down on the ground, covering her head with her arms. She screamed, scared of the slow and painful death that would undoubtedly find her. _

The scream still lingered in her throat as she was called back to the realm of reality. She sat up precipitously, heaving for breath.

"Thorin", she whispered.

She remained, staring blankly into the dark room, unable to distinguish any feelings.

As her breath steadied and her heart no longer racing, she slumped back into her pillow.

"What use is there, me staying in this lonely mountain?", she whispered to herself before drifting off to sleep.

Leaning forth, returning from the shadows, Thorin sighed.

This night made it five in a row Thorin had witnessed her sudden awakening. He realised something had to be done, if not her life would be forfeit.

Ever since he learned of her state he had tried to help her without her knowing. He had had her moved to a private room, he had assigned Balin to look over her when he could not and he had remained by her side every night.

However, all her guardians had not succeeded in their mission to get her to eat much. Even her brother, to whom she was so attached could not persuade her, and now her complexion faded with each passing hour and with each passing of meals.

He decided then and there that if the next day came and went as had the days before he would have to persuade her himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Thorin!?" "What? Why?" Hertha looked around the room, utterly bewildered. The fire was lit, bathing the room in red and yellow. She had just been woken up, and as she sat herself up in the bed she tried to understand exactly what was going on and why.

He loathed her. Why was he there?

"Eat." A simple command really, one she had not listened to the past few days. With large eyes she stared at him as he placed a tray on the bed.

She did not take it, as she alternated between staring at Thorin and the tray. She realised what was happening, yet she did not.

"Hertha, eat!" Her eyes met his. Hers quizzical. Wondering. What was he doing? Why?

To the tray again. There was a small array of food. A bowl of soup, a piece of bread and a jug of ... tea? To Thorin. He looked distraught and angry, as if though he was about to shout "MAHAL, Hertha! Just EAT!".

With swift fingers she clasped the edges of the tray. Her eyes returning to the King, being the only movement she could manage. Though she could not understand why he was there, the way he spoke to her was not to her liking.

"It is not nice to shout at people whom you have just awoken..." She spoke quietly, worried he would shout again.

He did not. Instead he dropped his face to his palmes, letting out a frustrated moan. When he straightened himself out again, he looked her in the eyes.

"Hertha, daughter of Halvar, will you please eat? You need to eat, if not..." He trailed off, as if thinking of the possible consequences. He cleared his throat.

"Please eat."

Hertha dared not not comply, it was a miracle that he even spoke to he, he who hated her. Her eyes fell to the nutrition before her as she quickly grabbed the piece of bread with one hand and the bowl with the other. She lifted the bowl up and dunked the bread in the soup. Not wanting to meet the gaze of Thorin, in fear of being the recipient of his anger once more, her eyes locked on to her food.

Thorin felt a long held breath leave his body as the maiden before him ate. But a new breath was quickly held when he realised that she dared not look at him. He tried to say something, but every time he opened his mouth, he found himself closing it, before he was able to utter a single word. The midnight feast continued in silence.

The following night Hertha smiled as she was awoken, she had not dared to hope he would come again. She began to eat immediately, as she had realised that day she was indeed hungry and in need of food.

As she gazed over the rim of her tea cup she saw a smile on the kings face. It was a sight she had long since abandoned hope of seeing again, and as her eyes began to water she quickly redirected her full attention to her hot beverage. The question that had occupied her mind since Thorin had woke her the night before, came forth once more. She did not know if she dared to ask it, afraid his answer might break her heart again. But as the minutes passed and the fire flickered, she could not hold it in any longer.

It came as a whisper, a silent plea.

"Why?"

No answer, it seemed he had not noticed her question. Again.

"Why are you here?"

Thorin shifted his gaze to her, still lacking any readable expression. As if he did not understand the question. As if he did not understand the answer. It came, after an agonizingly long wait.

"I care for you."

Hertha could not hold her tears back any longer. How could he still care for her? She did not deserve his affection, and she was certain she could not have it. Once the public found out what she had done, and they would find out, they always did, Thorin would have to banish her from Erebor. There was no other way, if he was to keep the respect of his subjects.

"You can not." The three words broke her. There was nothing she wanted more than his forgiveness and affection, but hoping for them was beyond reason at this point. She continued before Thorin answered.

"Your subjects will find out, and the only way for you to keep face is if you banish me." She stared at the cup in her hands, barely noticing that her knuckles turned white.

"You need not worry about that. They already know."

Hertha stared at Thorin with wide eyes.

"Pardon?"

"Hertha. Think about it. If I were to banish you, that would be the equivalent of breaking all ties with the Iron Hills. And I could never banish you, regardless of your connections with Dain. I adore you and I could not think a life without you. Myself and Dain agreed it was best to make a public statement, to thank you for your service and in doing so making sure that there will be no public discontent if our fight becomes known. "

Hertha could not believe her ears. Hiding her face in her hands, she let the tears flow free. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball, and stay there, clinging to the hope that he had forgiven her. She felt the tray being moved from her lap, and a weight descending on the right side of her bed. A strong hand pulled her into a fur covered shoulder. Soothing words were whispered into her ear, as the king rocked her back and forth like a child.

When she ran dry, with no more tears to give, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself away, shaking her head.

"Why are you doing this, I do not deserve your kindness..."

"Mahal, Hertha!" His large hands cupped her face, making her look him in his dark blue eyes.

"Tell me this. If it was I who had employed you, would you have written the treaty differently? "

She grabbed his hands, lowering them into her lap. Hertha went through the treaty in her head as she looked at their hands intertwined, mouthing every word. As she came to the end, she looked up at the dwarf before her.

"No."

Thorin let out a sigh of relief, when Hertha finally spoke. The anger he had felt for Hertha had paled days ago, and was now, by this simple word alone, extinguished.

When Thorin finally emerged from the room, hours later, he felt at peace in his heart. The conversation had at first been awkward and unnatural, but the pair had soon spoken with ease and returned to their familiar way of speaking, just as they had before.

Thorin was met by one of the healers, a dwarven maiden he had come to know through his nightly visits. Moirah, a few years older than Hertha, was the only one to know of where he spent his nights.

"My king." She curtsied. "How did the patient seem to you this night?"

Thorin was not able to conceal his happiness, and a wide smile spread across his face.

"That is good to hear." The healer spoke, before he could, his demeanour telling more than words ever could. She curtsied again, before leaving the king with a smile still lingering on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

When she woke up the next day, she was alone. Judging from the fire having been lit, as well as the array of food next to the bed, Hertha guessed someone had just left her. She sat up in the bed. The heat of the fire had yet to reach the bed, making where she sat rather cold. As she contemplated seating herself before the fire, she came to the realisation that she had not ventured out of her bed, other than to use the lavatory for many days.

The cold floor hit the soles of her feet like knives, and after a few uneasy steps, Hertha grabbed the tray and moved to sit at the bench before the fire. It was a welcoming warmth that greeted her as she sat down and ate.

Whilst doing so, her thoughts returned to the night. Had Thorin really forgiven her? He had assured her, time and time over, that he had, but it felt so unreal.

Hertha sat before the fire, contemplating the events of last night and indeed the day that now seemed so long ago, for some time. As she in her heart came to the conclusion that he did well and truly forgive her, she felt a heavy load being removed from her shoulders. He had forgiven her. Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, had forgiven her.

She inhaled deeply, almost desperately endeavouring to soothe her nerves, though try as she might, the smile on her face would not be kept from her face. He had forgiven her.

Hertha was ripped from her thoughts as one of the healers entered.

The older dwarfs´ eyebrows moved closer to her hairline, as a look of surprise spread upon her face.

"Good day, Lady Hertha. It is good to see you up and about!" She said, after curtseying.

"Is it day already?", Hertha asked

"Oh, you slept long past midday. It is not long till the sun goes down."

Hertha smiled feebly as she shifted her gaze to her hands. The healer, with her fiery orange hair and icy blue eyes, had been taking care of her since her arrival, and though Hertha had not been an easy patient, wishing neither to eat nor get out of bed, Moirah had been a wonderful healer.

"Moirah. I must apologise for my behaviour, it was not fair of me to treat you as I must surely have done. You have done so much for me, and I have done so little to repay you."

Though Moirahs stature was that of the norm, Hertha felt herself drown in both hair and mass as the maiden gave her a crushing hug.

"One´s behaviour is often affected when one´s sickness is that of the heart and mind, my Lady. Your apologizing shows just how your affliction is letting go of its hold over you. It is my opinion, as your healer, that is you will soon be able to go home, given that you continue to improve as you have done"

Hertha was looking into the fire, listening to Moirah making the bed, as Haldor entered.

"Hertha! You are up!" The surprise was eminent in his voice, and Hertha could not stop herself from grinning ever so slightly as she turned to face him. But when she did, her brothers eyes did not meet hers, instead they were locked on the healer next to her who was finishing the last touches of making her bed.

Had it been possible, Herthas smile would have widened even more as she realised what was happening. Haldor and Moirah did not seem able to take their eyes of each other, the one lost in the other.

It was Haldor who first found his tongue again.

"Ehm. Err.. Hertha, I just came by to give you this." He hurriedly stepped over to his sister, placing a book in her lap. Hertha could not stop herself from giving him a cheeky smile, before propriety once more took hold.

"Haldor, allow me to introduce my healer Moirah, whom you have to thank for my recovery. Moirah, this is my older brother Haldor.

Moirah curtsied, somewhat shaky. Haldor bowed, first to Hertha then to Moirah. His gaze lingered on the latter longer than what would be deemed appropriate. He cleared his throat.

"You must excuse me, I must return to Dwalin and the recruits."

After he had left, Moirah rushed to Herthas side.

"Why did you say I was to thank for your recovery? We both know it is not so. Your brother has none other than the king himself to thank."

Hertha was taken aback, Moirah knew of Thorin? Giving it more thought, however, made it seem far more rational. She did not expect the King to fiddle in the kitchen.

"Have you not cared for me? It would be cruel of me, not to thank you for your services."

* * *

Haldor had just finished his own training, and was gulping down large amounts of water when one of the recruits called for him. A maiden wished to speak with him.

Grabbing his tunic he ventured to the entrance, not sure what to expect. A prank perhaps. Or his sister. The last case would infuriate him as he did not intend for her to leave the healing quarters unsupervised. He stopped dead as he recognised the maiden who was waiting for him. She seemed uncomfortable, chewing nervously on her lower lip.

He felt a surge of anxiety wash over him, he did not think he would survive to see his sister ill yet again. He rushed over to her, grabbing her by her arms, shaking her.

"What has happened to my sister?!" He could clearly hear the panic in his own voice.

"Relax Master Haldor. Your sister is well. She simply wishes to take a walk, and asked if I could fetch you." Her voice was soft, as if speaking to a distraught child. Haldor loosened his grip and rested his head on her shoulder, sucommbed by relief.

"Thank Mahal!" He breathed.

He swiftly straightened himself when he heard a snicker behind him. More than anything he would like to strike himself for his foolishness. Instead he stared down into the blue well that was her eyes. His behaviour posed to him a mystery. Surely a maiden so beautiful could by no means be without a husband and allowing himself to fall would be ill-advised.

"My apology, madam Moirah. I did not mean to be the cause of embarrassment."

"It is quite all right." She whispered, her cheeks flushed red.

The journey back to the healing quarters went silently. Neither able to find their words. Shortly before they arrived Moirah met his gaze.

"It is actually maidan Moirah, not madam Moirah."

"My apology, I simply could not think that a maiden as beautiful as you had no husband to go home to."

Haldor felt his chest swell as he saw her blush yet again. Her blush, and faint smile, that was what he loved the most about her.

As they entered Herthas quarters, he felt as though he was hit over the head with his own sword and stupidity.

"Haldor, put your tunic on!"

**Authors' note:**

Enter Moirah (Thank you Stardurin for the name idea), because Haldor needs love. Also, a huge thank you to the guest who reviewed and commented about Hertha being introverted, because that is really what we wanted her to be, and for others to tell us that she is, it makes us really happy!


	13. Chapter 13

_[Sorry for our long absence, our lives have consisted of little but sleep and exams. So it is only right to recap, what has happened in the previous chapters. Thorin has forgiven Hertha, and their relationship has slowly returned to where it was before. Haldor has met Herthas healer Moirah, and is quite smittened by her. Where this chapter starts it is the evening of the same day that Hertha went out for a walk with Haldor and Moirah.]_

* * *

Chapter 13

Hertha looked up from the fire when she heard a slight knock on the door. Expecting it to be one of the healers, she bid them inside. Her assumption was proven false as she recognised the proud dwarf who entered. Hertha could not keep a smile from her lips as she rose to her feet to greet him.

She contemplated greeting him with a slightly teasing tone, reminding him of the fact that he was indeed King under the mountain, and she his loyal subject. Nevertheless something about him made her halt her voice, and even halt her customary curtsey. Something about him rendered her almost unable to move.

He looked so tired.

"Thorin, you can not be here." She finally spoke. A surprised, and one might say almost jittery look fled over the Kings face. Hertha hurried over to him, her hand on his cheek as soon as she came to a halt.

"Not?" His eyes wary, clearly not in the mood for discussions of what he should or could do or indeed not do.

Eyes roaming the worry-spelled face of the man before her, Hertha spoke his name with a sigh, her thumb caressed his cheek before she continued.

"You look as if you have travelled to the Iron Hills and back in a single day."

"You must rest." She demanded.

The King of Erebor nodded in agreement, but made no sign as to leave. Instead he stepped closer to the maiden before him, pulled her into his embrace and rested his head upon hers with a heavy sigh.

Hertha considered pointing out to him that this was not the rest she meant, and that the whole situation was more than improper, but again she said nothing. Instead she settled into his embrace, and let her hands lightly stroke his shoulder blades in the hope that it would help him relax. It did. The pair stood there till the fire calmed it's lively dance, neither uttering a word, simply breathing in the presence of the other. With a final sigh, Thorin gently pushed away.

He started to apologize, but could not find the words that described his challenging day. Hertha stopped him halfway through.

"Thorin, you need not apologize. I understand." Her sincere smile made the corner of his lips turn up, for the first time that day.

"And you must never refrain from seeing me, thinking it will bring me burdens. Your company is always welcome."

Thorin considered kissing her. Or rather, he planned to but stopped himself in time. He did not know what Hertha's feelings were regarding him, and he would not risk their friendship for him to find out. He needed her by his side, and if that meant to ignore his feelings for he deemed it a worthy sacrifice.

Instead he thanked her. And he hoped she understood that he not only thanked her for this moment in time, but for all the times she had lifted both his spirit and his grief.

Thorin contemplated leaving her for the night. It was indeed late, and though it would not be the first time he had spent much of his night in her company, it would be the first time that Hertha would be fully conscious for the duration of his visit. He dared not think of the gossip that would come to circulate were it to be known that he had spent his night with her, even if they did nothing but talk.

With a heavy sigh he surrendered to the reality that he had to leave.

"You are leaving? So soon?" The question hung in the air for seconds.

"The hour is late. And if it became known that I have been here, your virtue would be ruined."

The maiden cocked an eyebrow, clearly reminding him that her virtue had not stopped him in the past. But in his face he also found the understanding of which he had become so very fond.

She huffed.

"Regardless… That does not…" She huffed again, clearly unable to make a sound argument. As Thorin gazed down on her, he could not help but feel as though they were lovers, sneaking off in the hope of privacy. He tried to forget the thoughts as soon as they had entered his mind, it would do him no good to think like that.

"Will you promise to go straight to sleep?"

Thorin chuckled. "Yes mother." He was unable to keep the grin from his face.

She simply looked at him, a slight smile playing at her lips. Thorin had to subside his urge to press his face to hers once more. He tilted his head to her, before turning to the door.

"Can you come to the balcony tomorrow?" The question was a mere whisper, yet brimming with hope.

Thorin did not turn at first, simply stood there with one hand on the door. When he did turn, he lifted a hand to push some loose strains behind her ear.

" I cannot. I am afraid I will have to travel to the Shire and back again, twice."

"You must not tire yourself out. Promise me that."

Thorin thought of calling her mother once more, but instead he nodded.

"Promise".

* * *

Hertha stared at the door for a few moments after Thorin had left. It upset her more than she dared to admit that she could not see him the following day. Hertha knew she could not lay claim to him, nevertheless she wished she could.

While she was getting ready for bed, Hertha thought of ways to help Thorin through the following day. She thought of making him a proper meal, but dismissed it soon after, realising that Balin would ensure that the King was fed. She contemplated making him a drawing, but as she did not want to be given the credit she dismissed that idea as well. With a sigh she realised that there was not much she could do that would cheer him up without her becoming the center of attention of people she did not know. Perhaps it was for the best, she thought. It was not her place to have thoughts such as these, they were the thoughts of a wife, not those of a friend.

Hertha looked at the bed, wanting to know whether she could imagine Thorin laying there. Hertha felt her face burn. In an attempt to clear her head of such improper thoughts she shook it.

The sudden thoughts of love towards the King made her uneasy. She could not find a good reason for their sudden eruption. Perhaps it was because of her brothers affection for the healer. Perhaps it was because she simply had not thought of what she and Thorin could be, what she wanted them to be. Or perhaps it was because she did not love him, but with all that he had done for her she could not think other thoughts. The latter option hurt. Hertha decided to let it be, at least until she was able to talk to her brother regarding the matter. Had she been someone else, she might have observed the fact that unlike most nights, when she would lay in the middle of the bed, she now lay down and occupied only the right side of it.

* * *

Authors' note:

Hope you have a great day, and as life has returned to normal we will now try to get back to our usual weekly updates.

_Yours faithfully, Sofie and Hanne._


	14. Chapter 14

When Hertha awoke the next morning, Moirah had already entered the room.

"Good morning, Lady Hertha." She twittered, clearly in a great mood.

"Good morning to you too. Dare I assume that my brother is the reason for your demeanour this morning?"

Hertha could not help but tease her. When they had returned from the walk the day prior, it had been quite clear that both her brother and Moirah were each rather smitten by the other. And drawing from how the face of the healer now matched her hair, Hertha judged her assumption to be correct.

"That is not very nice of you. Especially since it is you who receive nightly visits as well as attention from a certain dwarf." Hertha had to blink, at the sudden teasing in the healers voice.

Though she did not deem herself of more importance or of a higher rank, she knew she was. Thus it was expected of society that Moirah would chose her words with care, that she would not talk to Hertha as if she was of the same standing as herself. Not that Hertha and Haldor had used much energy to follow this unwritten rule of society in their household. If there was a ball, their cook and housemaid would be given the next day off, and talk amongst them had always been that of a tightly knit family rather that of servants and masters. It had always annoyed Eina, their house maid, as it was not usual and she felt as though she did not deserve such freedom. Their cook, Birger, who loved mead more than Haldor did, had no protests to this arrangement. He had often said that if he had to cook the day after drinking, the only dish he would be able to muster was an omelette, consisting of fairly questionable ingredients. What he did protest however, and with great volume, was the fact that he could not get Hertha out of his kitchen. She would help him bake sweets and bread, and no matter how often he told her that it was not her place and that it would damage her reputation if it became known that she spent time in the kitchen, he could not be rid of her. Or her brother for that matter, though his time was spent eating all the baked goodies.

Eina had always laughed at Birger for behaving this way. The stout old dwarrow could not see the fault in their master helping if she enjoyed doing so. That was until Hertha had had her fight with Thorin. Though Hertha had done little, the few things she had done she had engulfed herself in as if her life depended on it. And although Eina had tried to make her stop, it had not helped. And thus, as Eina and Birger were at the market buying supplies, Hertha had cut herself on her father's sword. Eina had talked to her as if she was her mother, telling her how she would never let her out of her sight again, and that she was banned from all house chores.

Hertha regarded Birger and Eina as family, and she did not mind to be teased by them.

She realised that she did not mind being teased by Moirah either, even though it had surprised her, and as the words she had spoken were in their entirety the truth, it was now Herthas turn to turn red.

"At least you know that the feelings you have are true and reciprocated. I know what I feel, I am just uncertain if they are those of a friend or a lover. He has done so much for me, he has forgiven so much. I simply do not know whether my feelings are true or whether they are reactions to all that he has done."

Moirah sat down at the edge of the bed, her face at once sober.

"Perhaps if you remember how you felt before. Did you not seek his company, did you value your conversations? Did you not behave differently, do things you normally would not have deemed proper?"

Herthas brows furrowed, as she asked the healer how much her brother had told her.

"Haldor has told me nothing. But _he_ has, though not to _me._ When he spent the nights by your side he would talk, and every now and again I would hear snippets. And once, I must admit, I stopped to listen." The healer looked down at her hands, clearly torn between helping Hertha understand her feelings and keeping the king's private words to herself. She took a deep breath, her eyes met those of the patient.

"His voice so drenched in sorrow, I almost forgot my standing and it awoke a deep desire to comfort him. But I did not. And I do not think he heard me, because he spoke of his thoughts and his feelings profoundly. He spoke of a day where the staircase had never felt longer, where his whole body ached. Yet he would not give up, for you were what awaited him at the end of the steps. He spoke of how he had pulled you down, so you sat between his legs with your back to him. He chuckled when he remembered how you had protested, telling him it was not proper. He spoke of the fear he had felt that you would refuse him the pleasure of sitting with you, of the smile he could not hide when you obliged, and of how grateful he was that you had not treated him differently, though you knew him to be king."

Moirah did not, however, tell of the three words he had ended with. Those she kept safe. They were not for her to tell.

Hertha knew not what to say. She did not know whether to be grateful for having been told this, or scold her for eavesdropping. Hertha chose the former, for if she did think of the meaning behind his words… To hear that Thorin had said such things, it made her heart swell.

She could not help a small smile as she looked at the healer again.

"Would you be so kind as to fetch my brother? I need to speak to him."

It took several hours before Haldor arrived, which Hertha spent pacing her quarters murmuring to herself. She only stopped when Moirah came in with food, nibbling on the bread and meat with a thoughtful gaze. Trying to make sense of her own feelings. A task that would have proven difficult even to the sharpest of minds. For this was no matter of mind, it was a matter for the heart, and in Herthas case it did not seem to reveal itself lightly.

Going back through their friendship, Hertha began to question if it truly just was a simple friendship between a male and a female, or if it had started as such and had slowly inched towards something more without either of them noticing. She could not stop herself from sighing, as she realised that it had always been easy for them to touch. If it had been with anyone else, Hertha could not think she would be capable of behaving with them as she did with him, especially as their meetings had been in private. She simply felt safe with him, she knew she could trust Thorin, she believed she could tell him almost everything. In truth, Hertha had probably told him everything. Almost, she reminded herself, her heart aching, she had not told him of the treaty. And yet, he had forgiven her. He cared enough about her to forgive her.

Hearing the door being pushed open, Hertha quickly wiped her tears away. Turning to greet her brother, Hertha smoothed the skirt of her dress, suddenly afraid of the answer he would give to her question.

"What is the matter, sister dear?" He asked as soon as he had shut the door behind him, his concerned eyes locking onto her. He walked over to her with heavy steps, his tunic still drenched in sweat from training. She knew he would always train after he had helped Dwalin with the recruits. Hertha remembered how he'd once said that if he was not drenched in sweat by the end, it was not training.

His hands squeezed her upper arm, making her look up at him.

"What is it?"

Hertha could not even open her mouth before he spoke again, the angst clear in his voice.

"Is it about Moirah? Do you not approve of her? For if you do not, I will stop seeing her right this second?"

Feeling her mouth go slack, Hertha simply looked up at her brother. Was he mad? Had he knocked his head whilst training?

"Of course it is not about Moirah. Or, it is in a way, but you must not for one second believe that I do not approve of her. I adore her!" Hertha could not help but to shake her head at her brother's reaction, for his whole body went limp. His hands slid from her arms, his head hung low as a relieved sigh escaped him.

"Have you truly been worrying about whether I like Moirah or not for the whole day?" She could not help herself, it was so unlike Haldor to behave as such. He had never given a second thought about how she felt towards the women he would bring with him, not even bothering to keep the volume to a minimum. Yet here he stood, a total mess because of a female he had meet only a few days ago. He shook his head weakly. She could even hear the faint yes that he whispered.

They stood like that for a long time. His massive figure, limp in relief, her petite one straight as an arrow awaiting the moment for her to ask her question. She did, when he finally looked up at her again.

"What is love? And when do we know that we have found it?"

Haldor stood up straight again.

"I believe love is when you have found someone with whom you can be completely yourself, someone who loves all your little quirks and flaws because they are a part of you and they make you who you are. Love is when you wake up in the morning thankful to be alive because it means that she is real and that she exist in the world, and the world is better for it."


End file.
